The Hands of a Healer
by ElvesAreEpic
Summary: Mirkwood is in desperate need and their choices of help are limited. Elrond, though the preferred answer, is out of reach and can offer no aid. That leaves only one person, Aragorn.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hehe, lots of h/c in this one! And a few cliffies, but those are bound to happen when I am around." :) Thanks so much to everybody who reviewed "No Finer Friends"!**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter One

"It did not please me to have to send to Rivendell for help," Thranduil woodenly stated, sweeping gracefully down a long flight of stairs with his hands clasped rigidly behind his back. "But our situation has grown dire." He glanced behind him at the human following him, waiting for a response. Aragorn nodded once, trailing meekly just behind the king.

"We would have sent Ada, whom I realize you would have preferred, but he was gone to Lothlorien and your letter sounded desperate," he explained. The man resisted the urge to start twisting his hands together and instead held them loosely in front of him, meeting the king's eyes steadily before they continued on.

They pulled up to a stop before a pair of tall double doors and Thranduil rested his hand against the knob, but did not open it.

"Lord Elrond is the master of healing. I will not lie, I was disappointed to find you on our doorstep instead of him. However, my healers tell me they are at their wits ends so until Elrond is able to make it here, you will have to do," he said softly, though, to the ranger's slight surprise there was no undercurrent of bitterness or anger. Just weariness.

"I still do not understand everything," Aragorn pressed lightly, bowing his head momentarily to the king. Thranduil sighed heavily, and twisted the knob.

The door opened to reveal a brightly lit room and line upon line of beds, the healing halls. A smattering of healers where deposited throughout the room, bending over beds and armed with various healing tools.

"What happened?" Aragorn asked in a shocked whisper, his eyes growing wide as they registered that almost all the beds were occupied. A harsh cough sounded from directly next to them, and Aragorn turned his head to gaze down at a young, dark haired, elf. He didn't look well, not well at all. His frame was shaking as he continued to cough violently and Aragorn's heart twisted just as violently. Moving quickly forward, the man was pulled up short by Thranduil's hand on his arm.

"There is nothing you can do for him, Estel," Thranduil stated heavily, guiding him away. A frazzled healer rushed wearily past them and to the side of the elf's bed. Aragorn looked up at the king, horror and disbelief written in his eyes. Now that he was paying attention, coughing could be heard elsewhere through the great room, and the man once more let his gaze wonder.

"Why did you summon us if there is nothing we could do?" he asked, his eyes sliding past face after face of clearly ill elves. The king began to walk again, and Aragorn joined him, though he was unable to tear his eyes away from the devastating scene.

Thranduil did not answer, and Aragorn did not ask again.

"Four weeks ago the first elf was struck down," Thranduil began to explain in quiet tone, nodding to a flustered healer who cut across their path. "We did not realize the seriousness of the situation until our healers had not luck with finding a cure, as all the while elves just keep pouring in."

"But what is it exactly—?" Aragorn broke in, his eyes falling upon a female warrior who was struggling to breath. They were moving quickly through the room, and Aragorn had trouble keeping up with the king's long paces. Thranduil glanced behind him once more at the man's question, almost as if he had forgotten he was there.

"The orcs seem to have been dealing in mischief darker than we have ever counted on. They somehow managed to breed their own giant spiders. Their results…" Thranduil sighed, sweeping a hand out and gesturing at the bedridden warriors. "The venom does not just leave their victims in a helpless sleep. No, the results are much more deadly."

"But…but how have so many warriors been taken down in such a short space of time?" Aragorn asked, the confusion in his face only increasing. "It takes effort to get under a Mirkwood's warriors guard. That is no easy task."

Thranduil laughed with no humor evident in the sound or his face. "The orcs did their job well. These spiders move soundlessly, stalk soundlessly. They think faster and smarter. The only advantages we have over them is that if, _if,_ you can corner one it is fairly easy to kill and that they have incredible short life spans. If you head to the south, then you will find the woods littered with their bodies. Thank the Valar for these, otherwise I fear Greenwood the Great would truly become 'Mirkwood'." He continued to walk forward, but Aragorn stopped.

"What new evil will the orcs come up with next?" he asked in despair, but no answer was given.

They were nearing the end of the crowded room and the ranger glanced once more behind him, the sight burning itself in his mind. He had never seen so many injured elves in the same room at one time, and it was startling. More than startling, it scared him to see the strong, seemingly infallible race brought so low.

Slipping out of the room after Thranduil, he eased the door shut. Turning, he found the king staring at him.

"You asked what you could do to help?" The king's bright blue eyes were boring into the human's and he raised his head, meeting the stare with practiced ease. "My healers are strung out in every which direction, trying to ease my people's discomfort. They have little or no time, or energy, to work on an antidote. You have some skill in this area, no?" Aragorn nodded and Thranduil nodded curtly back. "Good, we will put you to work with my head healer. But first, there is something else you must see."

Turning around, he mounted the first step of a tall, spiraling, staircase. "Come," he called over his shoulder as Aragorn hesitated. The man followed without another word, his stomach rolling as he wondered exactly what the king wanted to show him.

They climbed the candle lit staircase until they came to a similarly lighted corridor, which Thranduil turned off into. That only led to another stairwell, and then more hallways. Aragorn counted each twisting turn carefully, trying to keep his orientation in the maze that the Mirkwood elves called their palace. This wasn't a path that he knew from his other visits to the palace, but he was determined to learn this one as well. It wasn't until they stepped into the fifth hallway that recognition of where they were slammed home.

"Oh, no, not..." Aragorn murmured, his feet fumbling to a halting and staring with dread at a door further along the long hallway.

"Oh, yes," Thranduil, turning back to Aragorn with a look that the man would have once termed as unreadable. Now, he simply understood that it was the face Thranduil adopted as a defense when he desperately wanted his emotions kept hidden, usually when he was scared. "Wherever trouble is, Legolas is bound to be also."

Opening the door to the prince's rooms, Thranduil slipped in and Aragorn hurried after him. He should have known, from the instant he saw Thranduil's writing on that letter instead of Legolas', that the prince was involved. But no, his heart had denied that possibility before the idea entered his mind. The idea hit him hard and the fear which he had been carefully keeping in check, jumped into control, taking his heart and causing it to double its beat.

The room was dim and it took Aragorn's eyes a minute to adjust. His ears and nose, however, did not have the same problem. The sound of ragged, uneven and labored breathes wheezed unnervingly through the room, mixing in the air with the smell of a variety of herbs. He didn't like this, he didn't any of it.

"Legolas?" Thranduil whispered, moving towards the bed and obscuring Aragorn's view of the prince. The healer who had been attending Legolas quickly stood, a damp cloth clutched in his hand.

" _Hir-nin?"_ He bowed his head, glancing over at Aragorn with a silent question as the human hovered behind his liege.

"How is he?" Thranduil asked, ignoring the look, as he sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over his son.

"His condition has not changed since the last time you were here, _hir-nin_ ," the healer said in a low tone, moving closer to his lord. "He was awake about an hour ago. And it won't surprise you that he wanted to get out of bed. He kept asking to see his warriors."

Thranduil nodded, giving an exasperated sigh as he glanced down at his son. "Of course, Legolas, you would do such a thing," he whispered tenderly. He made as if to stand, but a loud groan glued him back to his spot. "Legolas? Can you hear me?" he called.

Both he and the healer leaned over the prince and Aragorn moved forward, frowning lightly. The prince didn't like to be crowed when very first awakening, the healer should move back and let Thranduil stay. Before he could voice his opinion, however, the volume and intensity of the panted breaths increased.

"Legolas?" the king called again. Another moan followed his voice and Thranduil shifted closer.

"Ada…" the one wheezed and choked word caused the largest smile that Aragorn had ever seen on the king's face, but his own was falling. His healer side was screaming at him that Legolas wasn't doing well, he just didn't sound good, he didn't sound healthy.

"Yes, _ion-nin_ , it is me. You just keep holding on, alright," Thranduil raised a hand, assumedly to gently caress his ill son's face. "I've brought help, look, see who has come." The king half turned, beckoning Aragorn forward with an impatient wave of his hand. The healer moved respectfully back, allowing the man room.

Moving forward, Aragorn felt his heart plummet to the bottom of his boots as he got his first glance at Legolas.

The elf was ghostly white, except for the bright red fever rash that has spread across his high cheekbones. Someone had braided his hair into one long braid, but several strands had escaped and were plastered across his face with sweat. His chest heaved dramatically as he strained for air and his mouth was parted to help the effort along. His nostrils flared with every breath as he used every resource to capture air. Both eyes were swollen almost all the way shut, but the man could just catch a glimpse of blue as they turned in his direction.

"Hello, Legolas," he said softly, dropping to his knees beside the bed and taking the prince's far too warm hand in his own. Despite how miserable Legolas had to be feeling, a smile parted his cracked lips and his eyes opened a little further.

"Estel," he breathed out hoarsely.

"Shh, don't speak," Aragorn ordered, squeezing the elf's hand tightly.

"Oh…I am…al…right," Legolas managed between gasps for air. He feebly squeezed Aragorn's hand back, before turning his face into the pillow and letting out small cough. Both the healer and Thranduil lurched forward at the harsh, tearing sound as if to grab Legolas, but the elf merely licked his lips and allowed his eyes to slip mostly shut. "How…my warriors…? Can…I…I…see them?" he murmured in an exhausted sounding whisper. Aragorn glanced up and Thranduil sighed.

"Estel is here to help us find a cure," the king answered, "I am sure that in no time you will be back up and on your feet." Legolas nodded, swallowing thickly before wincing, as if the action had hurt. Thranduil bent low and gently kissed the top of Legolas' head.

"Get some more rest, _ion-nin_ , please try and conserve your energy." Standing, he looked down at the human. "Come, I will show you where you will be working."

"Actually," Aragorn began not moving from his spot. "Could I examine Legolas first? It is always a starting point, and I think Legolas would be more comfortable with me than some of the other elves." Thranduil nodded in agreement, but still moved to the doorway.

"I have duties I must attend too. Our warriors have been greatly decreased, and the ones that are left must go where they are most needed."

"I…I could…somewhere," Legolas whispered breathily and Thranduil scoffed lightly.

"I'm blaming the fact that you are burning with fever that those words left your lips. No, Legolas." He turned, holding the door open for the elven healer who hurried past.

When they were left alone, Aragorn got to his feet and took Thranduil's vacated spot.

"Hey, Legolas, you doing alright?" he asked with a false grin, still clutching the prince's hand in both of his.

"You want…the truth…?" Legolas asked, licking his lips once more and momentarily holding his breath. Letting it out with a groan, the elf jerked his hand free of Aragorn's hold and clutched at his chest as he squeezed his eyes shut. Gritting his teeth, he pressed his head further into the pillow as he clenched and unclenched his fist.

"Yes, I want the truth," Aragorn said, his lips twitching upwards before falling once more.

"I…am…," Legolas manged between puffs of air, before coughing as he once more buried his face into the pillow.

"Hey, hey," Aragorn whispered, reaching out and sliding a hand under the elf's cheek to turn his face outwards once more. Legolas' skin was hot and sweaty against his palm, much to hot. "We are going to get you out of this, trust me."

Legolas shook his head, still clutching at his chest. "Of…course…I…" he was trying to say, but he was struggling to get the words out, his breath catching and stopping. He licked his lips, and again tried to speak, but nothing would come out.

"Legolas? Legolas," Aragorn called, his own breath hitching. He reached out, digging his fingers into the elf's shoulder and shaking him. "Legolas!" The prince's eyes were closed, all his limited energy going towards forcing air into his sluggish lungs. Forcefully, Aragorn yanked the prince up, supporting him as he shook him once more.

Legolas began to cough, the harsh, rattling noise making Aragorn cringe internally.

"Breathe through it, taking a breath," he ordered calmly as he slid closer to the elf so that his weight could rest against him. Pounding him none to gently on the back, he felt Legolas grasp a fist full of his tunic and repositioned himself. "Breathe, cough, breathe," he repeated into the pointed ear.

Luckily, it wasn't long before the coughed faded and Legolas breathing even out to as close to normal as they were going to get. Aragorn clutched his friend to him for a few minutes, his nerves sorely shaken.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he felt the elf shift against him.

"Yes..."Legolas said in what Aragorn supposed was agreement, though it came out distressed. Aragorn grasped him firmly and began to lower him back down against the numerous pillows. A line of clear phlegm coated Legolas' chin and Aragorn grabbed a cloth to wipe it away, but the elf beat him too it as he raised his arm and wiped at it with his baggy sleeve. His arm was shaking badly and Aragorn grasped his elbow for support. Not only his arm, but rather his whole body, the human amended silently.

"Sorry," Legolas gasped out, his puffy eyelids trying to rise so that he could look Aragorn in the face.

"Legolas, don't. Please just don't," Aragorn rebuked, lifting a nearby glass of water to the prince's lips. He eased the prince's head up off the pillows and pressed the glass against his lips. As he did so, Legolas' too large shirt slipped down to reveal two rounded and scabbed over holes. The wounds were position at the base of his neck. He had been attacked from behind.

A slowly building anger began fill Aragorn and it was with forced calmness that he set the glass aside.

"We will save your people, Legolas," he voiced, easing the elf's night shirt back into place.

"We…have…you…now…" Legolas agreed as his eyes closed. He was clearly exhausted and it wasn't even minutes before he drifted into slumber. Aragorn watched him, his heart clenching. What Legolas or any of the Mirkwood elves had ever done to deserve this, he didn't know.

Stripping off his coat, the man tossed it hastily aside and rolled up his sleeves. Bending over Legolas once more, he gently eased the sheets down to the elf's waist and began to undo the ties to his night shirt. He wanted a closer look at those pincer marks.

TBC...

 **Oh...oh dear, looks like the Mirkwood elves do have themselves in a pickle this time round. :)**

 **Just a note, this story is the fastest I have ever written a full story so bear with me if there are more mistakes then usual! I will attempt to edit them out but as I am sure you know by now, I miss things. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N You guys are amazing, let me just say that! Thanks for the reminder this past week about all I have to be grateful for! :)**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Two

Aragorn flopped back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes with the tips of his fingers as he let the air out of his lungs.

"It feels like you are going around in circles, does it not?" A voice form the doorway startled Aragorn and he looked up to find one of the higher ranking healers in the doorway. His arms were piled high with bed linen and it appeared as if he had been on his way to the healing halls.

"Yes," Aragorn admitted, looking at the table in front of him. The wooden top was strewn with bottles, herbs, bowls, parchment, and almost everything else one might need to create an antidote. "The orcs have once again shown us that their brain capacity is not as small as we chose to believe."

"Only when it comes to things of darkness," the light haired elf countered, stepping further into the room. "That is all that they comprehend."

"Yes, well, they are comprehending it far too well for my liking." Aragorn leaned forward once more and picked up a jar. Discouragement was etched on his face as he dropped a few drops of brown liquid into a bowl. "I wish my Ada, Lord Elrond, I mean, was here. He is the one we really need."

"So do we all. But until he can come, we must do the best that we can. Maybe if we bring together all of our knowledge, we could match that of Master Elrond's." The healer sat the pile of sheets on a chair and stood next to Aragorn, watching him work.

"Have you tried a pinch of Lobelia?" he asked, selecting a small jar.

"No, but give it a go. I am willing to try just about anything at this point," Aragorn said with a shrug. His brow furrowed as he picked up a fragrant herb and began to grind it.

THEHANDSOFAHEALER

"Another day and all I've accomplished is another round of dead ends," Aragorn spat in exasperation. He leaned his head back with a faint thunk against the head board and sighed.

"Getting…closer…I'm sure," Legolas whispered in-between his agonizingly fought for breathes. The light patter of rain could be heard striking the roof of the palace and Legolas tuned it in, finding comfort from nature as he concentrated on that rather than the all-consuming pain.

The two friends were sitting together on the prince's bed, the elf leaning exhaustedly against the human for support. His head rested lightly on Aragorn's shoulder, and the man's hand was wrapped loosely around his wrist as he monitored his pulse. The man was taking a break, the head healer having kicked him out for just such a thing. According to her, he "could not function without a break, because as a human, he was not as enduring as the elves". And though it was true, the words had stung and only added to his mood.

"I'm not so sure about that," Aragorn scoffed gruffly, a hint of bitterness entering his voice, "and to top things off, I think your fever is starting to rise again." Reaching out, he touched Legolas' forehead and sighed heavily again. He made as if to reach for the damp cloth that was sitting next to the basin of cold water, but a hand against his chest stopped him. Looking over at Legolas, he found the prince gazing at him intently despite the fact that he could hardly see.

"Estel," Legolas whispered emphatically.

"Yes?" Aragorn asked in bewilderment, which only grew as Legolas shook his head.

"Estel," he repeated, pressing his hand harder against the man's chest.

"Legolas, I am sorry. I don't know what you mean."

"Hope," Legolas ground out, stilling giving the man that emphatic look. "Be true…to your name." He patted Aragorn again, and then allowed himself to relax back. His energy was drained from even the small task and he began to take smaller breathes in hope to ease the permanent pain in his chest.

"Oh…" the man said meekly. "What would I do without you, _mellon-nin_ ," He smiled wanly down at the elf as he drew the soothing wet cloth across his hot skin.

A sudden crack of thunder startled Aragorn and made Legolas jerk violently, his eyes flashing open.

"Breath through the pain," the man was instantly commanding as his voice tightened. Legolas had frozen, his face paling as his sharp movement from before tore at his chest, stealing his already limited breath away. The inevitable coughing did not show its ugly face, for which both were grateful.

"What…would…I…do….without you?" Legolas managed after his breathing had eased out and his pain somewhat diminished. He slumped back against the bed, his breathing still too labored for the man's comfort.

"Something stupid, more than likely," Aragorn said out of habit and with a grin he also relaxed back. He pressed the wet cloth he still clutched in one hand against his burning brow, before washing it down over the side of his face and neck.

"No…doubt." Legolas sounded tried, much more tried than Aragorn had heard him sound in a long time.

"Shh, save your breath," the human commanded softly as he dabbed at cracked lips with the rag. "I am becoming winded just listening to you." Without the usual fight, Legolas just nodded once. All of the sudden Aragorn was more afraid then he since stepping foot inside the door. Legolas never listened to him when it concerned his health, not without at least putting up a show.

"Hey, you know I could just get use to you obeying your healer's orders," he joked, almost as if he wanted to goad the elf. Legolas only smiled and Aragorn felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Another crack of thunder resounded through the room and the pelting of the rain increased. "It is some storm that is brewing…" Aragorn nudged Legolas lightly, looking at him with new worry. "And this year has already been a wet one, wetter than I remember for a long time. The rivers are going to run their banks; will that be a problem for Mirkwood?"

"For some…one…who ordered….silence….you shouldn't…keep asking…questions." Legolas shifted drowsily, still not opening his eyes. Aragorn's mind was not comforted, but he closed his mouth. He smiled sadly down at the elf, tightening his grip around his wrist momentarily. They were both quiet for so long that Aragorn had just began to think that Legolas had managed to drift off when he spoke once more.

"My warriors…how ar…e they?" he whispered, sounding more asleep than awake. Aragorn's heart caught in his chest once more.

"They… they are doing alright. No worse than you are, I think," he comforted, lightly rubbing the elf's arm. "The antidote is being worked on at all hours of the day." Legolas nodded drowsily.

"Time…" he slurred out and Aragorn cocked an eyebrow.

"Time?" he asked, "A little past midnight, why?"

"No…give your…self…time," Legolas voice was fading rapidly and the man knew that he was fast losing his friend to sleep.

"Time is the one thing we don't have, Legolas," he whispered quietly to himself with a sigh. He layed his head atop Legolas and bit his lower lip. The clock was ticking, they would never have enough time. If only his Ada was here. He would whip out the cure before any more elves died or became as sick as Legolas.

But they didn't have Elrond. They didn't have time

…That was, unless, they bought themselves more. The cogs in Aragorn's head began to turn, and his face hardened as he thought. They couldn't get the cure, not at the moment anyway, but that didn't mean that they couldn't look for a different solution. A less permanent one, one that would buy them the time they needed. Something to give the elves strength, to freeze the venom in their veins until Elrond _could_ get here.

Giving a very unlike himself laugh, Aragorn shot up, clapping his hands together. Legolas yelped, his eyes flying open as he tumbled to the side as his support in Aragorn vanished. A low moan left his lips, followed by a feeble cough.

"Oh! Oh, I am so sorry, Legolas," Aragorn blurted out, quickly helping the elf so that he could recline against the mountain of pillows. A small smile was still on his face as he positioned his friend, patting his arm softly in reassurance.

"Go," Legolas whispered, shaking his head as if guessing that the man had come up with something. He smiled at the general direction as the human stood before coughing once. A hand came up to press against his chest as the sound of rasping and wheezing increased and Aragorn sat back down, his excitement falling faster than a brick dropped out of a tree.

"Will you be alright alone?" he asked, reaching out to lay the back of his hand against the elf's brow.

"Go." Legolas gave the man a small glare, before sinking back with a low hiss. The human slowly got his feet, worry still clear in his eyes.

"I'll send someone up, just don't do something stupid in that ten minutes," he said, before crossing to the door and walking swiftly down the first flight of stairs and towards the healers workplace.

"I have an idea!" he announced to the room at large as the threw open the doors. One of the three healers working there looked up, and raised an eyebrow in question.

"Any ideas are helpful," the other one murmured, concentrating on the herbs in front of her.

"It won't get us any closer to the cure, not really," Aragorn began, pacing back and forth animatedly, "but it will buy us time, and what we need is time."

"Explain," the top healer present prompted, putting down her vile and giving him her full attention.

"We strengthen the elves, give them something that in effect will water-down the venom. Lord Elrond, as I am sure you know, has come up with a variety of similar potions. We just need to take the basics and create something to fit our needs."

The elves looked at each and shrugged.

"Go ahead, the rest of us will continue to work on the full cure," the healer said, giving her nod of approval before turning back to her work.

Aragorn nodded, moving across the room and towards an empty table. As he passed one of the elves he stopped, tapping him on the shoulder.

"I left Legolas alone, but I don't think it should stay that way for long. His coughing has been getting worse." The elf nodded and silently left the room. Sitting down, Aragorn began to work, digging through his brain to remember anything that would help.

It was hours before Aragorn surfaced from the world of herbs, potions, and measurements as someone tapped his shoulder. Looking around, slightly startled, the human found himself face to face with Thranduil. Instantly a stone dropped through his stomach and to his boots.

"What's happened? Is it Legolas?" he blurted out before the king had time to open his mouth.

"No, Legolas is no worse," Thranduil said slowly, taking a seat hesitantly next to the ranger. "I have been told that you have come up with a new idea."

"Oh, yes," Aragorn said, turning back to the table and pointing at a bowl of white liquid. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, the emotion catching up with him now that he had stopped working. "What I am working on is not the cure, but it will give the elves strength and hopefully even downplay some of the symptoms. It will buy us time until Ad—Lord Elrond will get here."

Thranduil nodded, fingering a leafy plant. He looked just as tired as Aragorn was feeling. "Good," he finally said, "They need all the strength they can get. Many elves are just clinging to the thread of life."

"Elves shouldn't have to die," Aragorn said bitterly, moving forward to grind yet another plant into powder.

"No, no, they should not," Thranduil agreed, brushing back his blond hair. "But my people have not, and will not, give in easily. They are strong."

"Which is making all this," Aragorn gestured with his left hand around the room, "all the more scary to me." He sighed, scrapping the powder into the bowl.

"Indeed," Thranduil said so softly that Aragorn almost missed it.

"Is that why you asked for help?" Aragorn looked up hesitantly, knowing full well that he was stepping out onto thin ice. Thranduil was proud, as well as tired and frustrated. It wasn't a good match.

"Yes," the king said shortly, abruptly standing. "We are warriors, not healers. Though our healers are good enough to save our lives time after time, this was just above their heads and elves were dying."

"No offense was meant." Aragorn held up his hands meekly, trying to calm the king. Thranduil slowly sank back to his seat, giving a single nod of acceptance.

"So does this mean you are getting closer to the cure?" The king asked, after a long moment, drawing his finger along a crack in the table.

"Yes and no," Aragorn said in a low tone, shaking his head as he rubbed his face. "I wish I could tell you differently. We are close, I have the feeling. We are just missing some key links."

"Maybe this… this potion that you are working one will be the break you and the elves need." Thranduil awkwardly reassured, lightly gripping the man's shoulder. The man knew that the king didn't do this often, and felt a strange feeling enter his heart. Maybe he was just tired, but he was greatly touched by the fact that the proud old elf thought him worth comforting. Things had changed in the last years from when Thranduil could hardly look at him, and he knew that he had Legolas to thank for a lot of it. The young prince had worked tirelessly with both of them to create peace.

"I desperately hope so, my lord. I hope so for everyone's sakes." Aragorn smiled, a little wanly, and Thranduil nodded. The clatter of pounding footsteps shot past the room and Thranduil shot to his feet, leaning back in an attempt to see what was happening through the cracked door. The footsteps faded and Thranduil turned back.

"The best of luck to you, _Elrondion,_ " Thranduil said briskly, before turning towards the door. But before he could reach it, the pounding feet came back. This time, however, the door to the room burst open with a crash and a messenger, dressed in dark grey, came flying in.

"King Thranduil!" the messenger barked, dropping down to one knee and without waiting for the lord to reply, blurted, "It's Prince Legolas!"

TBC...

 **Whoops...there is my famous cliffie showing its ugly face. :)**

 **Review Replies:**

 **Crushed:** Thanks! I am very glad that you do and hope that you will continue to read! :)

 **Sam:** Glad to hear so! :)Thanks very much!

 **ElvenPrincess:** Haha, those frying pan skills come in very useful! It will be just what those orcs need. :) Thanks!

 **Helen:** I'm sorry that you thought it was boring, but hey, to each their own! Maybe next time I will catch your interest. ;) Thanks!

 **Idon'tliketoast:** haha, well, I have my little siblings do it to me before. :) I'm glad that you are enjoying it! And I love odd looking dances (partly because that is the only *I* can dance.) Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Well, good thing that the FF got the error fixed that was showing up a few days ago! Otherwise you would have had to wait even longer, and that wouldn't be fun. :)**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Three

Thranduil didn't wait for the messenger to finish his sentence, but took off with a hidden speed that Aragorn didn't see coming, even though he had seen the king in action before. He dropped his herbs he was holding and looked at the messenger, spring to his feet.

"What about Legolas?!" he demeaned, fumbling in his sudden rush to pick up his herbs and prepare his potion. Grabbing a small vile he began to shake it vigorously before upending into the bowl. His hands were shaking.

"From what I could tell, the prince wasn't, or couldn't breathe," the clearly young elf said softly, moving to stand behind Aragorn. He watched him work intently, his eyes narrowing as the man spooned part of his creation into a flask and began to swirl it. "What's that?"

Aragorn looked up, impatience wearing lines into his face. "Something to help the ill elves," he said with more harshness then he had intended. But if Legolas had stopped breathing… Slamming the flask down, he added a pitch of greyish powder.

"My father is sick."

The words cut deep and Aragorn found his hands slowing of their own accord, his face softening.

"We are doing all we can." Turning to look at the young elf with new eyes, Aragorn saw the fear hovering just under the surface, the desperation for everything to turn out all right. At a loss of what to say, he fumbled with his words for a second. He needed Legolas; this was what Legolas was good at. He was quiet, but he always knew what to say. "Have hope, we _will_ find what we need, and then we will cure your father," he finally managed, giving a wan smile. The young elf smiled slowly, and the turned back to the door.

"Please hurry," he said in parting. Aragorn raised his hand, trying to throw off another reassuring smile. Snagging a chunk of brown substance, the human healer dropped into the flask and raised it to the light. Dipping his finger in, he sampled it, smiled, and corked the flask.

Taking off at a run, Aragorn clutched the bottle tightly. He flashed through the stone hallways and past elves. Taking a sharp right, he skidded, regained his balance, and jumped up to the third step on a narrow flight of stairs. Turning into the corridor he wanted, he slowed down to an anxious walk.

He slipped into Legolas' room just in time to hear Thranduil declare angrily that he "would not see it happen again." The king and the healer were standing in the middle of the room, and Thranduil seemed to be taking his frustration out on the later. The healer, for his part, took it meekly and patiently.

He made a beeline for the bed where Legolas was laying frightfully still.

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked softly, not wanting to wake the prince if he had managed to drift off, but at the same time he needed to see some sign of life. He sat the flask down on the bedside table, and eased himself onto the edge of the bed. The prince's puffy eyelids flickered and his heart leapt.

"Estel…is…is…?" Legolas rasped out with an almost nonexistent voice. His wheezing was pronounced and it was with clear effort that he managed to raise his eyelids enough to look up. With an exhausted sigh, he let them slip shut again just missing the man's smile.

"I heard you were giving the poor healer trouble." Aragorn reached out, grasping the prince's hand in both of his. His skin was hot and dry beneath his touch.

"It…noth….ing…" Legolas reasoned slowly, a smile twitching his lips.

"I didn't sound like nothing to me," Aragorn rebuked gently, examining the elf's ashen face. His lips were tinted blue, he wasn't getting enough air. "You about stopped my heart, please, please, don't do so again."Picking up the flask he yanked the cork out and was reaching to pour some of it in glass when a feeble tug on his sleeve made him look down. Legolas had worked up the effort to open his eyes again, and he met the man's in a pleading manner.

"Don't…don't let…Ada…take it…out…not healer…fault," he managed between gasped breathes as Aragorn learned closer to catch the faint words. He coughed half-heartdly once, as if still trying to clear his lungs, but the motion appeared painful and he stopped.

"Let me take care of you first, and then I will." The man lifted the elf's head off the pillows and brought the glass to his chapped lips. "Just sip, now. Take it slow."

"Ada," Legolas reminded after he had managed the small amount of brandy colored liquid. Aragorn nodded, twisting to look over his shoulder.

"Legolas wants to speak to you, Thranduil," he called and almost instantly the king moved back to the bed. Aragorn stood, allowing the elf to take his place, and began to converse silently with the healer, expressing his acknowledgment that there was nothing the other healer could have done to prevent the occurrence.

Thranduil rose from the bed, declaring as he did so, "Legolas sleeps. I also must get back to my duties. I assume one of you will stay here."

"I want to distribute this." Aragorn pointed at the flask on the table, his mind jumping back to the young messenger from before. The healer glanced around.

"I can stay," he volunteered.

"Good," Thranduil strode forward and out the door, closely followed by Aragorn.

THEHANDSOFAHEALER

Aragorn bent down next to a young, female, warrior who had recently be brought into the healing halls with the spider venom coursing through her vein.

"I've got some medication for you, alright?" he soothed easily with a comforting smile. The elf looked at him, and then glanced around the room wildly.

"Where am I?" she slurred, the white around her eyes growing with terror.

Aragorn sighed. He knew what the problem was, it had happened with almost every other elf he had tried to help. "You are in the healing halls, at the palace."

"No…no, it, it…where are the elves?!" She tossed her head feverously to the side and Aragorn quickly backed up, motioning for another healer to come take his place, an elven one. Humans weren't a common occurrence in Thranduil's halls and the elves were struggling to come to terms with his unexpected appearance in their lives. If they hadn't been confused and frightened from the fever, Aragorn thought that most of them would let him treat them but in their current state, it wasn't going over well. Most of the time they thought he had kidnapped them.

Sighing, he rubbed at the back of his neck and looked across the crowded room. Though the healing halls wouldn't have been deemed a happy place, there was no longer the deadly cast of despair to hang over them. The sounds of light chatting could be heard, and it was almost loud enough to drown out the wheezing. Aragorn's strengthening solution had worked wonders, and was a great blessing to the elves in their time of need. The poisoned elves, though still too ill to get out of bed, at least had the strength to sit and talk. Aragorn wasn't fooled by the outward appearance. Time was ticking; this was just the calm before the storm.

"Lord Estel?" Turning in surprise, Aragorn found the same messenger form a few days before standing behind him.

"Yes?" he asked, a frown darkening his features as his heart-rate picked up.

"This is for you." The messenger held out a letter in a slightly trembling hand. "It just arrived." He allowed the man to take it, and Aragorn grinned upon reading the inscription. The youth turned to leave, but Aragorn threw out a hand, blocking his path.

"Are you alright?" he asked with a low note of worry. The young elf before him was pale and wan, his eyes were red and black circles lined them. "Is your father doing well?"

"I… I am alright, but my father…he is not doing well," the elf whispered, bowing his head as his shoulders slumped forward. Gone was the curious youth from before replaced with a much older and world-weary elf.

"What is your name?" Aragorn asked kindly, lightly draping an arm around his shoulders and leading him away.

"Arandur," he mumbled, "Arandur Arminasion." Aragorn nodded, processing the information.

"Alright, Arandur, I have two things I need you to do for me," he said, squeezing his shoulders lightly. "First off, have hope. We are working as fast as possible. Second, under my orders go take a break, go see your father."

Arandur looked up at him, wonder coming back into the dark eyes.

" _Hannon-le, hir-nin,_ " he whispered, rather shakily, and left.

Aragorn watched him go, rubbing his chin lightly and frowning, before also leaving the healing halls. Holding the letter tightly in one hand, he walked briskly towards Legolas' room. As he rounded the staircase that would lead to the royal halls, he heard a soft sound and looked up. Sighing exasperatedly, he tucked the letter away again and jammed his hands on his hips.

"Legolas," he growled shortly in frustration. His began to tap his foot as he glared up at the prince. Legolas was leaning against the railway, grasping it tightly to stay upright as he looked down at the human. "What did I tell you?" Taking the steps two at a time he reached the prince's side and grabbed his arm before he could fall. "We went over this yesterday! You are in no condition to be up and walking around." He encircled the elf's waist and pried his fingers free for the handrail.

"I want to see my warriors," Legolas protested stubbornly, trying to retain his hold. His words were broken off in a deep cough that sounded just as painful as before, almost as if it was tearing his lungs out form the inside.

"Not today, Legolas," Aragorn said gently as he succeeded in pulling the elf away and attempted to stir him back down the hall.

"No." Legolas shook his head, glancing over his shoulder and down the stairs. He half-heartedly tried to pull in the other direction, but Aragorn's currently much stronger grip kept him going in the opposite direction. "But…"

"No 'buts', Legolas. You should be in bed, you should be resting. Just because you are doing better doesn't mean you can pretend you are fine. Why I ever let you out of my sight for more than a minute is beyond me."

Taking it slow, they walked back towards the far room with Legolas leaning more and more of his weight against the human. About half-way down the hall his legs buckled and a strange sound left his lips as he stumbled badly, but Aragorn swift reflexes pulled him back upright.

"Here, sit," the man said hurriedly as he watched the blood rapidly drain from his friend's already pale face.

"No…I'm—"

"You are not fine!" Aragorn hadn't meant the words to come out quit as loud or as frustrated as they did and he sighed, pinching the bridge of nose as Legolas looked away. "Listen, Legolas, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped, but you have got to admit that you are not fine."

Legolas sighed, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. The world was been spinning around him in a sickening way, and Aragorn wasn't helping matters at the moment.

"Sometimes…," he began softly, "sometimes I have to be fine. Sometimes, it helps." Aragorn's brow crinkled in mild confusion and Legolas shook his head. The fever was making his tongue loose, looser then it usually was for even Aragorn or his father. "If I say I am fine, then I am fine. If I admit I am not, then, well, it doesn't help." He glanced over at his companion, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Mind over matter," Aragorn said, a low chuckle leaving his lips. He patted the elf's arm and Legolas relaxed, coughing lightly into the crook of his arm. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head wearily against the human's shoulder, but the man shifted abruptly.

"Oh, no, Legolas. Don't you go to sleep just yet, otherwise I will be forced to carry you to your room and we both know how that would go over." The human jostled the elf, before sliding to his feet and bracing the elf's shoulder so he wouldn't fall over. "It isn't that farther to your room, can you make it?"

Legolas nodded in true Legolas fashion and held out his hand, which Aragorn ignored and instead shifted his hands under the elf's armpits. Hefting him up, he allowed the elf to clutch him for a moment as he gained his footing . His face was still dreadfully white and Aragorn slowed his steps to a slow shuffle, forcing Legolas to do the same.

Reaching the door, he braced the prince against the wall long enough to open it before leading the elf in.

"Do you want to sit down?" he asked once they were over the threshold. A low fire was smoldering next to the couch and during good hours, Legolas would usually request to sit there instead of lying on his bed. To his surprise, Legolas shook his head.

"I-I think I need to lay back down," he admitted without looking at Aragorn. His little adventure had taken more out of him then he cared to say. His breathing rate was increasing, and with it the wheezing.

"Of course," Aragorn said fluidly as his stomach dropped. They needed the antidote more than ever, or the elves strength would not last. "Now, you aren't going to try and make it out of bed again without help?" He suddenly understood what the elf had meant before about 'being fine' as abrupt yearning to install even the idea that Legolas having more strength then he did filled him.

"I can't make any promises," Legolas answered as the man lowered him to sit on the bed. He let himself fall back and his eyes fluttered closed.

"I wouldn't believe you if you did," Aragorn snorted, the healer in him overpowering and he began to draw the light, silky, blankets over him.

"Don't fuss, Aragorn…" Legolas pushed the man's hands away from him, frowning as Aragorn only proceeded to take his temperature. "Estel," he moaned in protest.

"Oh, alright." Snorting slightly, he moved back.

Not to the man's surprise, but a little bit to his dismay, it didn't take Legolas long to slip off into an exhausted slumber. His mouth remained partial open to gain maximum intake of air, and it wasn't long before the raspy and wheezing increased. He was beginning to hate that sound more than he did screams or cries of agony. It was like death was enforcing a creeping attack rather than coming straight out.

Sitting down on the arm of the chair, Aragorn took the letter out of his pocket and ripped it hurriedly open, noting as he did so that it was Elladan's scrawl instead of Elrond's strong hand. As he began to read, his face slowly fall and darkened. He slumped back against the side of the chair, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh. Elrond was not going to be coming anytime in their near future.

Elladan had written that though they had wrote an urgent letter to Lothlorien, Elrond had yet to receive it. The twins didn't think that Elrond would be returning to Imladris any time soon, and not in time to save Mirkwood, even if he did race there once he knew. They would have to fend for themselves or come up with another solution.

TBC...

 **Oh dear. Elrond, hurry it up! Mirkwood needs you!**

 **Review Replies:**

 **Idon'tliketoast:** Haha! Ah, yes, me and my evil cliffes. This ending was near as bad, though. But I do love them, rather too much. I love to be hated in the fashion, by the way. ;) Thanks!

 **ElvenPrincess:** No, he does not! I love it when his softer sides comes out. :) Well, at least Legolas survived. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N This chapter isn't the longest, but at least it is, in fact, a chapter. :)**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Four

Rubbing his face tiredly and in disappointment, Aragorn looked up as the door opened and shut. Thranduil stood in the doorway, looking over at his sleeping son, before turning to face Aragorn.

"Has anything changed?" the king asked, moving to sit next to Aragorn. A disapproving look was thrown pointedly at the human, and the man swiftly moved to sit on the chair properly.

"In Legolas? Not really." Aragorn fingered the letter, knowing the king would have to be told, but not really enjoying the thought of it. "He tried to get to the Healing Halls again."

"Did he? The stupid, stubborn, boy." Thranduil face brightened and he looked back over at his son's pallid and worn face with pride.

Aragorn sighed, hating to be holding the needle that would pop the king's momentary bubble of hope. "He only got about half as far as he did the day before. He is growing weaker, my lord." He paused, taking a breath, "and it doesn't appear as if my father is going to get here anytime soon."

"What! What do you mean?" Thranduil asked sharply, sitting forward and jerking his ice-blue eyes back onto the human's face. Aragorn held up the letter and handed it to Thranduil. The elf took it and began to read swiftly, his face paling.

"So we cannot count on any help from Rivendell," he stated bitterly.

"Ada will more than likely have received the message by now. But it will take him too long to travel from Lorien, to Rivendell, and then to Mirkwood. My bet is that it will take Ada at least two weeks to get here. At least."

"Two weeks!" Thranduil exploded, jumping to his feet and staring down with dismay at the ranger. "My elves cannot wait two weeks, they need help _now_. Some of them even now teetering over an edge!" At that, all the air seemed to go out of him and he deflated. "We lost another one, not but an hour ago," he relayed in a dead tone, looking at the human with hurting eyes. "No, ranger, we cannot wait that long."

"What would you have me do?" Aragorn snapped, also getting to his feet. "I am doing all I can. I, more than anyone, wish that my father was here!"

Thranduil flared up, his pale face flushing, but a loud moan from behind them caused both ranger and king to turn towards the bed. Legolas' head twisted against the pillows and he muttered something intelligible.

Both deflated almost at once.

"Forgive me, I acted out of turn," Aragorn mumbled, and Thranduil nodded in acceptance.

"We need Lord Elrond, though. We can not dance around that problem." Thranduil kept his eyes riveted on his son and folded his arms in front of his chest. Aragorn followed his gaze, keenly understanding the faint trace of fear in the king's voice.

"Agreed. But he isn't…here. He isn't _here,"_ he said slowly, his eyebrows drawing together as a frown penetrated his face. Thranduil was silent, recognizing the look of someone deep in thought. The man looked up, his eyes boring into Thranduil's seriously.

"What if we brought someone to him?"

"What do you mean?"

A smile began to creep across Aragorn's face, excitement pooling in his eyes. "I could take someone who has the venom in their veins, and bring them to Rivendell. Ada will receive the letter soon, I am sure of that, and make for Imladris and we will be there already. That way, we can cut out more than half the traveling time, _and_ Ada will have everything that he needs." Aragorn began to pace back and forth, his voice growing louder. "And once he has the antidote, then he can send it back with instructions by way of bird, which is faster than horseback.

Thranduil frowned, thinking along this reasoning. "Will it not be hard on the elf?" he asked calmly. Aragorn slowed his pacing.

"Yes," he said truthfully. "But it will be worth it. We have to leave all possibilities open, don't you think?"

"Let me think this over," Thranduil announced, standing. For a moment, he appeared extremely tired and Aragorn realized the weight that he bore. Being king was hardly ever easy.

"I think we could even leave this afternoon. The sooner the better," Aragorn remained gently. All the same and the king sighed heavily.

"Who were you thinking of taking, anyway?" he asked, giving the human a hard look

"The strongest that—"

"I'll go."

Aragorn and Thranduil wheeled around to find a weary looking Legolas struggling into a sitting position, his face shinning with both determination and illness.

Aragorn laughed, scoffing lightly. "No." He crossed his arms, his eyes lighting up in blaze as he stared Legolas down. The elf stared back, though his arms shook visibly and he had to lower himself flat, rather ruining the effect. His eyes were still burning bright, life flaring through them though his body was useless. Thranduil leaned against the chair, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two friends. Legolas would not be going, that was firm, but he wanted to see how Aragorn would handle it. "No, Legolas. You are weak, it would be too hard on your body."

Legolas shook his head with more life in him than Aragorn had seen all week.

"It must be me that goes," he paused to suck in a large, wheezing breath. "It makes senses."

"No, it doesn't," Aragorn shot back, striding closer to the bed. His face was flushing red, though Legolas' was redder from fever, and he used a voice he normally would only have used in battle. "How does it make sense? Legolas, there are others who haven't been affected for as long. They are stronger, better prepared for what a harsh journey this is going to be."

To Aragorn's surprise, Legolas nodded. "That is all very important, but I can offer something else."

"What else? Your cheerful attitude? Your friendship? That is not going to save your warriors!" His voice was rising, but Legolas held his ground. "Give me three good reasons!" Legolas paused and Aragorn smiled triumphantly.

"For one," Legolas began, giving his friend a look that clearly said 'you haven't won yet', " I've traveled with injuries before. I know what it is like and how to conserve my energy and how to do it with the least amount of discomfort. Secondly, I know you and trust you. Not all elves will and if they don't trust you, how will you care for them. Third, I know the way to Rivendell."

"Your stretching, especially on the third," Aragorn pressed, his brows rising higher. Legolas flushed a little redder, but ploughed on.

"Hypothetically, if something where to happen to you, then I could continue—"

"—Hypothetically if you could stay on the horse!—"

"—onto to Imladris." Legolas voice remained calm and even, but Aragorn was still close to shouting and Thranduil shifted forward. Aragorn was losing control of the situation, Legolas had gained the edge. Aragorn began to splutter, raking both hands frustrated through his hair. Thranduil saw his eyes pinch shut, and with apparently a great deal of control take several deep breathes. When he opened his eyes again, the anger was gone.

"Before I could even _consider_ taking you, I would need two things," he said in a normal tone once more. Thranduil noted the careful wording with approval and sat back. "First, why in the name of the valar do you even want to go?" Legolas blinked once, and frowned. Finally he shook his head.

"Because," he started softly, "I do not want anyone else to have to go through it. Because I think that it would be best for everyone."

Aragorn rolled his eyes, but pushed forward with his second, and more important, question. "Legolas, if I was to take you, you would have to swear to me that you would follow any command or order I gave. This would include taking all medication without any fuss, stopping whenever I command, and telling me the truth about how you are feeling when I ask." He locked his serious grey eyes with Legolas' blue eyes, folding his arms firmly.

After a split moment of hesitation, Legolas gave in. "I will do as you have asked, Estel." Aragorn blinked in surprise, but overcame his shock quickly.

"Swear it too me, Legolas."

"I swear, Aragorn, I will follow any command you give me for this journey." Legolas meet his eyes with full determination.

The man shared a bemused expression with Thranduil, who just shook his head. "Very well, Legolas, I will think it over. But there are many things I must do before I go, so for now, sleep. Regain whatever strength you can, because even if you do not go, you will need it." He turned to Thranduil, who nodded curtly and they both began to move towards the door, the king throwing one last, anxious look over his shoulder. Before they could reach the door, the prince's panicked voice stopped them in their tracks.

"Estel, you won't just leave, right? You will come back and at least say good-bye?" Aragorn swiftly turned to find that Legolas had managed to push himself upright. A wild, almost scared, had entered into his eyes and the man nodded.

"Of courses, Legolas. I promise I will not leave without saying good-bye. Have I ever?" Legolas collapsed back to the bed and Aragorn gave him one last long look before leaving.

"You are not seriously considering taking Legolas," Thranduil ordered without looking at Aragorn as he swiftly walked down the hall.

"No," Aragorn said with a little less conviction then what Thranduil wanted to hear.

"Do _not_ even think it!"

Aragorn shrugged reluctantly. "Part of what he says makes sense." Thranduil swung around to face him, lighting flashing in his eyes.

"None of what he says makes sense! He will stay here where he belongs and were he will be safest. Right now, his just a mixture of heroics and stupidly rolled together, don't let him fool you into thinking he can make that trip."

"You forgot stubborn," Aragorn added, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the king. But still, a thin smiled stretched Thranduil's lips.

"That too. But despite what he thinks, he _cannot_ make that trip. He is too weak."

"I know…" Aragorn trailed off, a thoughtful look that Thranduil did not like at all crossing his face. "I will think on whom is best to take, and get back to you." He hurried off and Thranduil watched him go. He did not like this, not at all. Legolas had bewitched the man into thinking that he could do the impossible, he was sure of it. Aragorn and Legolas listen to each other. He was almost positive that had a different elf made the same proposal, the human would have laughed and denied it. But because it was Legolas... That was how they so often go into trouble, he was sure of it.

"M'lord!" the voice startled him and Thranuil turned to find one of the many elves that was in need of his attention.

"Walk as you talk," Thranduil directed, pushing his own feelings away for the moment and concentrating what was on hand. He would simply have to trust the human son of Elrond's to make the right choice and well, if the man didn't then, he was still king as well as Legolas' father.

TBC...

 **Hmm...wonder who that lucky person will be? I mean, surely Aragorn will not even dare to think about taking Leoglas.**

 **Review Replies**

 **Idon'tliketoast:** So many times I have wished that I could get right in a fictional character's face! I feel your pain... ;) I guess you will just have to sit tight and see what happens. Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Back with another chapter! I'm so ready for this weekend! Hopefully I can get some stuff done that I have being meaning too... :)**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Five

Aragorn managed to corner Thranduil early in the afternoon. With one look at the man's face, the king knew that he wasn't going to be thrilled with whatever he had to say, he had little doubt as to what it would. Aragorn's face was as one prepared to do serious battle.

"What?" Thranduil asked shortly, wasting no time as he turned to look at the human.

"I am ready," the human paused, taking a deep breath. "I just need to finalize my choice in a companion."

"And just whom might that be?" Thranduil asked coolly as he drew himself up to his full height. If the human dared to say the name he thought he was going to, then blood might just be shed.

"I was thinking, _Hir-nin_ , and... Legolas truly makes the most sense." He met the kings eyes straight on, wiling to engage in battle.

"No," Thranduil said without hesitation, his eyes glinting dangerously. "He is too weak, take someone else who is stronger."

"But—"

"NO buts. That is my final say, and _I_ am father as well as his king." Thranduil glared at the human, already ready to push past him and pick the strongest warrior he could find, with or without the man's help. Aragorn stuck out an arm, unwilling to let him pass until he had been heard out.

"That is true. But think, all that Legolas said is true as well. He trust me, you haven't seen how the other elves flinch away from me. They would just as soon go back into the forest and face down the spiders than come with him. He will actually let me care for him. Also, think, he will be the first to receive the cure."

Thranduil appeared unimpressed and Aragorn hurried on. "Ada also is familiar with Legolas. He knows what proportions work best, what herbs work particular well or not on him, etc. That may seem small, but it could save precious time. And I know that he has the strength to make this! I have seen him countless times push forward even though by looks he should be dead. I don't know where he stores it, but he always manages to find just a little bit more energy.

"He and I know how to work together. I don't have to guess what he is feeling, _I know_. I know what to do for him without having to guess or ask."

The king remained rooted to the spot, his eyes narrowing as he folded his arms firmly.

"No, absolutely not," he growled, shaking his head vigorously. Aragorn frowned, standing taller and straightening his back.

"Yes," he said just as stubbornly. Thranduil eyes widen in shock, his arms coming unfolded as he blinked once. It had been a long time since anyone had defied him when he had laid down the law so firmly. "Yes. _I am the healer."_

"Well, I am his king _and_ his father," Thranduil repeated dangerously, leaning into the ranger's face. His voice was rising, but Aragorn only matched it.

"He is an adult! He is free to make his own choices!" He choose to ignore the part about Thranduil being king because, in reality, he had nothing to combat that with. "I am the healer. I am doing what is best for all your people, not just Legolas. He is willing." He paused, his eyes coming up to meet Thranduil's as he voice dropped almost below a whisper. "But are you willing to do what is best for your people?"

Aragorn fell silent, watching as the king opened and shut his mouth. That had been a low blow, and he knew it but if would do the trick...

"He could die…" Thranduil said at last, his voice dropping. "He is already so ill, he won't be able to stand that harsh of a journey."

"Legolas won't die," Aragorn spat the words out so sharply that he almost jumped himself. "And he will be rewarded for his sacrifice with the cure." Thranduil turned away, his hands clenching and unclenching.

"I'll…" the king paused, swallowing, "I'll bring him to the horses, then?" the faint note of bitterness was noted and when he turned to look at the human, his mask had appeared as hard and unbreakable as ever. Grabbing the king's arm, Aragorn pulled him to a stop.

"I swear by the Valar, _I swear,_ that I will do absolutely everything in my power to keep Legolas safe. He will live, or I will die," he promised with quiet power, his eyes glistening with emotion. Thranduil shook his arm free.

"I would expect no less," he growled, fighting back from the way that his heart was pounding fast enough for three and the way that his throat was starting to swell shut. Thranduil twirled away and moved swiftly down the hall, ignoring all elves that called out for him. They could handle whatever needed handling without him for just a little while.

Slipping soundlessly into Legolas' room, he locked the door behind him and turned to face his son. Legolas was sound asleep, his mouth parted. Smiling sadly down at him, Thranduil felt a wave of unexpected motions hit him. He had slipped into his son's room so many times over the years, starting when Legolas had been but a baby. And then with the small, inquisitive, boy who had quickly turned into a strong fearless youth. Now, he was the selfless, stubborn, warrior that lay before him, struggling for breath.

Tearing his eyes away, Thranduil wrenched the closet doors open and began to carefully fold anything that he thought his son might need into a well-worn pack. His fingers began to slow of their own accord and soon they had stopped. His eyes were locked on his son, not his hands.

Legolas was all he had left.

A distant rumble of thunder and the faint splattering of yet more rain jerked him out of his thoughts and he finished the packing in record time. Kneeling next to his son, he smoothed back his sweat soaked hair.

"Legolas…," he called softly. The prince stirred, his breath catching in his chest. "Legolas, it is time to awake." The elf rolled his head to the side and Thranduil gently slide his hands under his shoulders, easing him up. He was just in time as harsh, frame quaking, coughs quickly announced Legolas' return to the living.

Patting his back firmly, Thranduil allowed Legolas to lean against him. He could fell the heat of his son's skin through the thick layers of his robes and the king closed his eyes in silent horror. He rested his free hand against the prince's brow, trying to see if his temperature had risen.

"Ada?" Legolas squinted up at his father, trying to make out who was holding him upright through the blurriness.

"Yes?" So it was his father.

"Ada, did…did Estel leave?" Legolas pale face was pinched in worry and Thranduil felt his heart open for his son. He leaned him against his body, savoring the moment.

"No," he said at last. "In fact, you manage to convince him that…that you should be the one to go with him. "Legolas abruptly sat up straight, his face lighting up with shock.

"What do you say, Ada?" he asked hesitantly as he searched his father's face. Thranduil gave him a wan smile.

"That ranger is worse than you, it seems, with coming up with good reason for going through with horrible ideas. I can't do anything with when the two of you have your minds made up together. Just promise me that you will come home."

Legolas grinned, and leaned back against his father. "Nothing could keep me from always returning home," he promised sincerely. Both knew this wasn't exactly true, but it boosted Thranduil's spirit. Kissing the top of his son's head gently, he clung to him for this moment that they had. The façade was ripped apart as Legolas coughed harshly, his hand moving to clutch at his chest. Thranduil closed his eyes, pressing another kiss to his head.

"That sounds like it hurts," the king said slowly and Legolas smiled.

"Maybe," he answered as he suppressed another cough. He caught sight of the pack resting on the floor and sat up again. "We are leaving immediately, aren't we?" Thranduil nodded mutely. "Ada, I am ready."

"No, you are not," Thranduil snorted. "But you aren't going to be ready anytime soon. So I guess this will have to work." With swift fingers, he began to unbraid what was left of the long bride in Legolas' hair, before combing the sweaty strands out with his fingers and rebraiding it. He wanted so desperately to stall time, but also speed it on its way."At least you can see now."

"Ada, I am ready," Legolas repeated. Thranduil nodded, closing his eyes. Standings, he felt his emotions rise up against him but hurriedly pushed it all aside. Legolas also made as if to stand, but Thranduil's palpable glare stopped him.

"You will need all the energy you can conserve for the journey. You will not walk, or you will not go." The prince frowned, but as another cough ripped through him, he was forced to admit defeat. Thranduil grabbed a nearby cloak and swiftly wrapped it around his son's shoulders.

"Put your arm around my neck," the king directed, sliding his arms underneath Legolas' body and lifting him from the bed as Legolas did as requested.

"I really am fine." Thranduil didn't bothering answer, only shifting his son to a better position as he headed for the door. After a moment, Legolas allowed his head to drop and laid it against his father' shoulder. He was feeling much wearier that he wanted to let on.

The soft patter of a light rain greeted them as they stepped out into the courtyard and Legolas flinched with surprise as the drops hit his hot face. But before Thranduil could move to cover him, he titled his head back, laughing quietly as the drops continued to fall. He had been in bed and inside for far to long.

Aragorn was waiting for them in the shelter of an overhanging stable, and as he saw them approaching, flicked his hood on and stepped out. A pair of glossy black horses stood behind him, clearly prepared for travel. The one on the right pranced lightly, throwing her glossy head, and Aragorn patted her gently as he passed.

"This is your last chance to back out, Legolas," he said when they were within talking distance. His keen eyes scanned the prince, but kept their emotions to themselves. The elf shook his head stubbornly and Aragorn nodded. Turning to Thranduil, he said, "I thought we would take two horses instead of one."

Thranduil nodded. With Aragorn's help, they seated Legolas on the first mount, and the king turned towards Aragorn. "You keep him safe, you hear?" he said shortly over the sound of Legolas giving a feeble cough.

"Of course, my lord," Aragorn said quietly, "I will return him home again alive." Thranduil nodded curtly and handed the human Legolas' pack. The man moved to tie to the other horse and the father stepped closer to his son. He said something to him in rapid elvish and after a moment Legolas replied, holding out a trembling hand. Thranduil sighed, but in accordance with the prince's request pulled free on of his own daggers and handed it over. Legolas tucked it under the cloak and gave his father a smile, comforted by the weapon. Thranduil said one last thing to Legolas as he reached out and clutched his son's arm, and then stepped back.

"We will ride as fast as it is as possible to go," Aragorn stated, moving forward and swinging atop the mount and wrapping an arm around Legolas' lithe waist. "As soon as Ada has the cure, we will send it back by birds and with instructions."

Thranduil didn't reply, he couldn't speak, and only raised a hand and swept it out in the traditional evlish farewell. Aragorn followed suit and Legolas made half the gesture. The father and son locked eyes, and then Aragorn had kicked the horse into a gallop and the horse began to run as if it was racing the wind. The second horse dutifully followed, and Thranduil was left alone in the rain with mud splattered robes.

TBC...

 **Poor Thranduil...I think he needs a hug. Someone should give him a hug. ;)**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Bellasiel:** Your wish is my command. :) Hehehe, adventures are certain to be had!...and trouble. Of course, what is a FF without a little bit of trouble!? I am excited for it, at least. Thanks so much!

 **WoodElfJedi:** Haha! Yup, me and my cliffhangers. :) Got to love them. I am so glad that you are enjoying it so much. Thanks!

 **Idon'tliketoast:** Of course it won't! When has anything they have ever done end well? Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Alright! Lets do this thing! Hehe, after a slow start the real fun begins... *maniacal laugh, maniacal laugh***

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Six

Aragorn tightened his grip on Legolas as they rounded a sharp bend and felt him take a deep breath. Mentally counting down, he only made it too three before the elf began to cough raggedly.

"Easy now, Legolas," he soothed, pushing the horse to go a little faster as he adjusted his grip on his friend. The dark trees of Mirkwood loomed overhead with an ominous feel to them, but here on the elven path Aragorn figured they should be perfectly safe. He hoped.

"I'm alright," Legolas wheezed out in annoyance, glaring ahead at the path. They had only been traveling for a few hours, but his body was already feeling the effects of the journey and he wasn't thrilled to say the least. He could tell that Aragorn was beginning to question his wisdom in bringing him along instead of someone else and that frustrated him more than anything. If only his father and friend would see that he didn't care what happened to him as long as they made it to Rivendell in time, then the trip would go a lot smoother.

The horses trotted along, but the prince and the ranger remained silent. Legolas, for reason that he couldn't speak without coughing, and Aragorn, for the forbode growing in his stomach. The trees were growing more... _dark_ , for better word to describe it.

"I'll be glad to leave this forest," he muttered under his breath, cursing the evil that resided in Mirkwood once again. His eyes flickered over the tree tops, and snapped to the side as he thought he heard a sound. Almost without thinking, he let go of Legolas and let his hand drift towards the handle of his sword. Something snapped overhead, and he jumped violently.

"Twitchy, aren't you?" Legolas mumbled. He twisted his head to look at his friend's face, before dropping it back against the man's shoulder. His puffy eyelids seemed to be wanting to close on themselves and it was with great effort that he was keeping them open.

"You would be too if you weren't use to it." Aragorn words carried an undertone of fear and Legolas reached out, squeezing the arm that was wrapped around him. He was too tired for words. Closing his eyes for just a moment…he was rudely brought back to reality as Aragorn twisted beneath him and the horses pulled to a sudden stop.

"Wha—" he slurred out, but Aragorn clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Shh…" he whispered, and waited until Legolas had nodded before releasing him. Being silent was easier said than done. While he had been sleeping, which had been longer then he had thought if the scenery was anything to go by, phlegm had been building up in his lungs and his body wanted to be free of it. Chocking back a cough, Legolas felt his eyes began to water and the already tight bands around chest beginning to strangle him. Aragorn did not appear to notice his dilemma, and still sat half turned in the saddle with ears pricked for whatever had alerted him so. The horse shifted nervously to the side.

At last, Legolas could hold his breath no longer and he let it out swiftly. But as soon he as he tried to suck in more air, his lungs began to force the unwanted phlegm out. Coughing once, he tried to still the sound, but couldn't. Aragorn whipped around at the noise, his hand flying to his sword. He breath a sigh of what was a mixture of relief, worry, fear, and annoyance all in one, and touched the elf's shoulder in concern. Legolas waved a hand, but his coughing continued, sounding ever more dangerous.

"Legolas, can you answer me?" the ranger asked calmly, his other fear forgotten for the moment as he tried to get the elf to look at him. Legolas nodded, but couldn't get the words out of his mouth as the coughing ripped through him. "That's it." Swinging off the horse, he reached up for Legolas and pulled him off despite the elf's continued hand waving that was suppose to signify that he was fine. Guiding him gently to the ground, Aragorn began to smack his back in an attempt to loosen the phlegm and stop the coughing. Legolas kept shaking his head, even as he felt himself falling forward onto his hands.

Aragorn abruptly stood, and Legolas' watering eyes attempted to follow his friend. Suddenly Aragorn was crouching next to him once more, armed with a flask. Tilting the elf's head back, he administered the drink slowly. Legolas' hand came up, clenching at his wrist and attempting to pull the drink away from him as he only choked worse on it.

And then his mouth was filled with the strange, stringy, substance that he had become so familiar with the past few weeks. Spitting the phlegm out, Legolas began to gasp air in desperately. Aragorn's steady arm reached out him, holding him steady.

"Easy, just take it easy," he was saying as he brought Legolas back up to a sitting position, offering the flask once more. Legolas took it with clearly trembling fingers, but the man continued to hold it for him as he took a swig.

"We should go." The words were exhausted and carried none of Legolas' usual tone, causing Aragorn to look closer at him. The fever spots on his face were growing more pronounced as his faced paled, and his eyes were closed in weariness.

"Alright," Aragorn agreed after another quick glance around the forest. Reaching out to pull Legolas back up he pulled up short, a flash of confusion flickering across his eyes, before he grinned.

"Legolas," he said pointedly, making the elf open his eyes to give him a confused look. "You are not wearing any boots." The prince gave him a surprised look, and then glanced down. He was just as shocked as Aragorn had been to see his bare feet and stared at them with clear confusion. Aragorn began to laugh.

"It is not funny," Legolas protested, though he was having trouble hiding the smile that was spreading across his face.

"I beg to differ," the man giggled, taking the elf's arms and pulling him upright. The elf blanched perceptibly and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the world from spinning around him and the man immediately grew serious again. "Take it slow, don't rush," he murmured, squeezing his shoulder softly in reassurance. "Let your..." abruptly he froze. Narrowing his eyes, he cocked his head to the side.

"Legolas, what is that?" the asked, pointing at something out in the forest. Legolas looked at the spot, squinting as he tried to make it out.

"Aragorn, I can hardly see five feet in front of me," he reminded, closing his swollen, red, eyes and rubbing them. Aragorn shrugged apologetically and began lower the elf back to the ground. "No, please, Estel, let's just go." He managed to snag Aragorn's sleeve as the man stood straight, but the man shook him off gently. "Are we not in a rush?"

"I will be less than two minutes," Aragorn said, ignoring the rest of the elf's protest as he made his way towards the trees.

"No, you won't," Legolas whispered, biting his lip nervously. He had a very bad feeling about all this and just wanted the man to get back up on the horse. Against his better judgment, though, he gripped the horse and used it for leverage to heave himself up. Limping heavily forward, he used the trees as support.

Ahead of him, Aragorn stopped.

"Oh…" he heard him breath and squinted hard to see what it was.

There, crumpled in a large ball with it legs twisted grotesquely upright, was a dead spider. The bright red and interact marks under its belly revealed it to be one of the orcs spiders, but it's eight eyes were scarily, but thankfully, blank.

"Aragorn, come back to the horses!" Legolas almost begged and Aragorn jumped violently.

"What are you doing here?" he demeaned as he jammed his hands onto his hips.

"I don't like this, please, let's just go." Legolas gave the man a desperate gaze, his pale face darkening with fear as his eyes flickered around the area, taking everything in a way that only a warrior with years of training could do. Aragorn took a step closer to the spider, fishing in his pocket for something. "They travel together. There could be more, please, Aragorn."

"Legolas, think. If this spider had died only recently than I could still collect some venom and _that_ would be priceless. It is for Mirkwood's good!"

"No."

"If we have the venom, some pure venom, then Ada could find the cure ten times faster. Wait here, don't exert yourself." Moving forward, he tuned out the elf's continuing protest and pulled a corked bottle out of his pocket and dumped is contents out. Pulling a face, he buried his nose in his sleeve as the smell of the dead spider hit him. The pincers would not be easy to reach.

Cursing softly, Aragorn was just reach out to part one of the hairy legs when his sense went into instant full alert and began to scream at him with the force of a thousand voices. Dropping the bottle he grabbed his sword and looked up just in time to let out a shout and dive to the ground. Not even a second later, a second large spider with almost identical markings hit the ground, it's middle only just missing the human. As it was, the spider's leg caught him in the middle of the back and pinned him to the ground.

Aragorn's air left him with a _woosh_ , but he didn't waste time as he violently threw his weight to the left. The sudden jolt surprised the spider and he managed to pull free seconds before the pincers came down a second time. Spinning around, Aragorn rose as his adrenaline spiked and yanked his sword free. Holding the weapon at arm's length, he slowly circled spider, which hissed and jabbed it's two front legs at him.

The spider made the next move. Scuttling forward with a speed Aragorn did not anticipate, he just jumped aside, slicing at its leg as he did so. Green, thick, blood spurted out and the spider gave a keening cry as it scrambled back, only to charge once more.

The spider was just as lighting fast as Thranduil had described and once again Aragorn found his life was spared by the skin of his teeth. He rolled into a dive under the creatures belly and found himself staring up at the bloated bag Thrusting his sword up, a trick that Aragorn has used before when fighting spiders, he was foiled as the spider leapt forward and began to climb the nearest tree in jerky movements.

Jumping up, Aragorn slammed his sword with all his might into the already wounded leg that was dragging behind. The scream that filled the air would have made a dwarf plug their ears, but Aragorn only dug his sword in deeper, yelling himself. The spider appeared effectively pinned and he let go of his sword to draw his knife. Backing up a pace, he twirled the knife and hurled it at the spiders head.

As if in slow motion, the spider gave the loudest scream yet and as the knife twirled through the air, ripped its own leg free of its body as it let go of the tree and fell knife missed by mere inches as the spider toppled back, waving it seven legs widely. It hit the ground with a crunching thud. And Aragorn had not been quick enough to jump back, ending up under its left side. The spider wiggled it hairy legs, blood gushing through the hole in the body and splattering thickly on the ground. Aragorn gave a cry, grunting with effort as he tried to escape. Digging his fingers into the ground, he began to inch out from underneath the monster. His veins began to pop in his arms as he strove with all of his might, but the spider was heavy.

The spider screamed again, and Aragorn felt it shift in his direction.

"No!" he gasped out as he grappled with the ground in a frenzied attempt to move forward. But the spider paid no head to his words as it managed to roll all the over him and gain it now wobbly legs.

Dazedly trying to get too his own feet, Aragorn found his head was swimming dizzingly and he ended back up on the ground. He tasted blood and realized that his nose was gushing a fair amount, but paid no further head. The spider turned to him, unsteadily moving forward as it clicked its pincers ominously.

A trail of green blood marked its progress and Aragorn scrambled to his feet, backing up as quickly as his body would allow. His back hit a tree and he fumbled desperately with his boot knife as the pincers came ever closer. The ranger was caught, and Aragorn saw his life start to flash before his eyes. The spider loomed in front of him, blocking out all else. The pincers were lowering and the man knew that he was going to die. If that venom could take out an elf, then he had no doubts that he would be dead within days of being injected.

Just as he yanked his knife free, the spider gave a screech of pain and reared back. Aragorn caught a glint of silver imbedded perfectly in the spider's head and felt his heart leap with joy. He had forgotten one factor, a very important factor. That had been perfect aim, and Legolas never missed, and he had not missed now despite the fact that could hardly stand straight.

The spider lurched back, screaming for all it was worth, and fell backwards. Giving a war cry, Aragorn lunged forward with his own knife clutched tightly and imbedded it to the hilt in the spider's eye. Still yelling, he twisted it deeper until fowl blood was gushing over his hands and only let go when the spider gave an almighty heave, wrenching it free from his hands.

Backing hurriedly away, Aragorn cried out as the back leg caught him in the chest as it jerked violently. The spiders, it is last dying act, slammed him up against a tree, to which his head connect sharply with. Everything abruptly began to tunnel and he felt his knees give out as blackness overwhelmed him.

Legolas sucked in as much as his tired and sore lungs could handle, watching the spider twitch in its death throes.

"Aragorn!" he called out hoarsely. Hobbling forward, he tried again. "Aragorn, answer me!" Silence was his answer, and Legolas felt panic enter his soul. Small pools of green blood dotted the ground and he gingerly picked his way across, still calling the man's name. With each unanswered call, his chest grew tighter and his heart began to beat double with fear.

He didn't even notice as his overworked lungs began to spasm. After days of lying in bed, the sudden exertion did not agree with them. Tiny black spots began to dance in front of his eyes, but he did not stop. He had to find Aragorn, he had to make sure he was alright.

His knees gave out, and Legolas folded to the ground only to push himself back up. The spider was still twitching and Legolas gave it a wide breath as he tried to stagger forward. His chest was hurting just as if someone had stabbed him and the ground was spinning in all directions. He could no longer tell what was up and what was down.

Coming around the spider like a drunk man, Legolas felt his heart drop as he caught sight of Aragorn. The man was sprawled awkwardly on the ground, not moving.

"No," Legolas mouthed, not able to draw enough air to be able to say the word. He couldn't see the man's chest rising and falling form his position and horror crept over him, further paralyzing him. The world around him began to narrow as black lined the edges. The ground was rushing up to meet him and that was the last thing he saw before the wave of blackness closed in around him.

TBC...

 **Oh deary me. Both of our heros seem to be having trouble. ;)**

 **Review Replies:**

 **WoodElfJedi:** Hehe, yup. And as you have read, this next one was even better. :) Well, maybe not from your prescriptive... And no...no orc attack as of yet. Though as you just witnessed...spiders attacks? Yes. Thanks so much!

 **Bellasiel:** Did you really think I could leave him behind? No, too much fun to be had. :) Oh dear, look what kind of trouble you got Legolas into? Hehe. Thakns so much!

 **Idon'tliketoast:** Yes, I would agree that all the elves need hugs. The poor people... Hehehe, yes, this is me we are talking about. :) Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, as see above. :) Thanks so much!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N I feel like this chapter is a bit of a filler, but the next one will pick up once more. :)**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Seven

Aragorn twitched as something cold and wet hit his face. A few seconds later, it was followed by another, and he rolled his head to the side, trying to escape whatever it was. His head touched something decidedly harry and prickly, and he dragged his hand across the ground until his fumbling fingers came into contact with whatever it was. As soon as his hand was wrapped around it, he remembered.

Flinging his eyes open and giving a shout of horror, Aragorn threw himself to the side, his lip curling. A spider's leg was next to him, and even worse it was connect to the enormous bloated body.

"Legolas!" he called out as his thoughts raced ahead and flashes of what had happened came back to him. "Legolas!" Scrambling anxiously to his feet, he winced as his head gave a nasty throb. He was about to call out the elf's name once more, but stopped mid sentence as he caught sight of the elf sprawled in the dirt. One of his arms was tucked underneath his body, but his other was stretched out as if he was reaching for something.

"Legolas, _mellon-nin_?" Aragorn dropped to his knees and rolled the prince roughly over onto his back. His heart about dropped to his toes with relief as he felt the heat pouring off the elf's skin. Legolas was alive, if far from well. "Legolas, wake up. I need you to wake," Laying a hand on the prince' brow, Aragorn saw to his terror that his lips had turned a distinctive color of blue. His breathing was choked at best, at worse it was barely there. "Legolas, come one, wake up!" Shaking the prince roughly, he slapped him harshly.

The elf stirred under his not so gentle administrations and the ranger redoubled his efforts. The prince drew in a deep breath and his features tightened as if he was trying hold off the inventible coughing. Aragorn quickly drew him up into a sitting position as the first cough ripped through his lithe body, sounding harsh and grating. Allowing the elf to lean against him, he began to slowly rock back and forth as cough after cough tore through Legolas. The prince's hands came up, balling in the ranger's tunic and clutching at him like a lifeline as the air he was gasping for so desperately was ripped viciously away. His vision was startling to tunnel again, he could feel himself slipping away.

"No, Legolas, you have to be calm. Don't think about coughing, just breathing." In the distance he could hear Aragorn's calming voice, but he couldn't focus on it, couldn't grasp it. Aragron's cool hand was pressing against his chest, rubbing a comforting rhythm, trying to aid him. Slowly the rushing in his ears faded and Aragorn's voice grew louder. The world righted itself and he found the coughing lessening and air flooding back into his lungs.

The two simply sat together as Aragorn hugged Legolas to him and the elf fought raggedly to catch his breath.

"Estel, let…let me go," the elf managed after a while. "We have to…go. Spiders…might come back." He reached out, patting the man's shoulder in reassurance.

Aragorn sighed, giving in against his better judgement. "I'm going to gather our weapons. Will you be alright for a few minutes?" He gazed around the clearing, scouting for any dangers, and glanced down again just in time to catch the glare the elf was sending his direction.

"Go, but then we must leave," Legolas croaked out, waving a hand listlessly in his direction. The elf's side was moving at an unnatural speed as he attempted to catch his breath and it was with several anxious glances that Aragorn stood. Swiftly retrieving their weapons from various parts of the spider, Aragorn felt his lip cur with hatred as he looked at the twisted bodies. Theses spiders would not win the war, they would find the cure.

Returning to the elf's side with his sword back in his belt and his knives tucked carefully away, he pushed Legolas' hand open and gently laid the hilt of Thranduil's dagger in it. Legolas hand clutched at it, his fingers forming an unbreakable hold.

"Do you think you can walk?" Aragorn asked attentively, touching Legolas' pale, almost translucent cheek to gain his attention.

"Of course I can," Legolas answered with his eyes still shut. He sounded almost asleep once more and Aragorn felt his heart drop.

"Legolas, are you injured? Did the spider get you?" The prince cracked an eye and shook his head once. Aragorn nodded once, relief in his eyes. Wrapping both arms under his shoulders, he eased Legolas gently into an standing position. Legolas let out a small groan and his head lolled to the side as his knees folded up on him and he started sinking. Quickly sweeping his legs out from under him, the man balanced the light elf in his arms.

"I am alright, put me down…" Legolas murmured even as he rested his head against the man's chest. He coughed sickly and Aragorn cringed. "Just tired."

"Well, you are scaring me." Aragorn began to walk, giving one last look at the dead spider. Legolas shrugged again him, and Aragorn let a soft sigh leave his lips.

The horses were right where they had left them and Aragorn nudged Legolas, smiling.

"Your Mirkwood horses do have sense after all," he teased gently as he sat the prince back down on his feet. Legolas clung lightly to Aragorn, lifting his heavy lids to star glassily around, but the man was already guiding him to the ground.

"Sit here for just a minute, and then we will go." Legolas nodded and Aragorn stood. A small smile lifted the corners of the elf's mouth as a sudden thought struck him. He had killed the spider. He had held his own and defeated, sort of, one of the monsters that were killing his people. The thought lifted him immensely for how, oh how, he hated being so dependent upon others. He had hardly been able to do anything for himself since being bitten and it was refreshing to not be leaning on Aragorn, his father, or a healer. Even for just a moment. It had cost him greatly, but it had been well worth it.

"Alright." Aragorn was back in front of him and extending an arm for him to grasp. Taking it, Legolas allowed himself to be boosted up on the horse but the grin remained on his lips.

THEHANDSOFAHEALER

They traveled with only absolutely necessary rest or breaks for the next few days. They were making record time, but Aragorn couldn't disregard the growing lump of fear in his chest. Though Legolas was putting up a brave and good front, he could tell that he had never quite recovered the energy that he used during the spider's attack. He spent most of the bone-jarring journey drifting in and out of sleep, and the coughing fits were attacking with more intensity and frequency. To make matters all that much worse, Aragorn thought (he wasn't convinced that Legolas had been telling the truth when he denied it) that blood had been spotting the princes pale lips recently.

So it was that he pushed the horses ever faster until they began to ascend to the heights of the Misty Mountains. Here it was that a new problem presented its ugly face, as if they didn't already have enough. The air was growing thinner. Though this did not affect Aragorn at all, Legolas was starting to show the strain as they climbed ever higher. His already labored breathing was now truly fought for and every breath was costing him greatly. Any movement that he offered up was sluggish, as was his mental processing, and that scared the man.

At last, though, they were starting the climb of the highest peak.

"Do you know what, Legolas?" Aragorn asked conversational as Legolas fidgeted against him. His eyes were pinched tightly shut, but he clearly wasn't asleep as he tossed his head to the side, chest heaving. He stank of sweat, and his loose shirt was soaked through with it. When no answer was given, Aragorn sighed but continued on as if he had. "Think of how much easier it will be to breathe once we get back to ground level. That will be like nothing compered to this."

Though Legolas didn't speak, the man caught the traces of a grin on his face. Smiling at this small success, he released the reigns to gently squeeze the elf's arm. "We will make it, Legolas," he whispered softly and not for the first time. Legolas nodded against him, though it might just have been partly a desperate attempt to draw enough air into his lungs.

As the horses slowed once more and as the ground rose suddenly, an idea popped in the man's mind.

"Hey, Legolas," He shook the prince softly and waited until his blue eyes had flickered before saying, "I'm going to get off and walk, alright?" After being on the horses for almost 24/7 the past few days, his body was beginning to voice its complaints. It would be a great relief to be able to stretch his legs and the best part was that they would lose no time, for the horses were going slowly enough for him to be able to keep up.

Swinging off the horse, Aragorn gave a large sigh, stretching his body with satisfaction. It felt incredible.

"Oh, it feels good to be walking," he said with a smile, lighting grasping the prince's elbow to keep him steady. Legolas slumped forward against the horse's neck and the man tightened his grip. "I even think I could beat you in a race currently, though I may end up hobbling like an old man." He wasn't expecting a reply, but it was to his amazement that Legolas spoke for the first time in almost six hours.

"You'are, future…king..wouldn't…hobble." Legolas voice was odd and his words slurred in such a manner that Aragorn had to ask him to repeat it. But Legolas was done talking, and Aragorn couldn't get him to say more.

Sighing, the ranger ran a hand through his hair and glanced back at the elf, biting his lower lip. Legolas didn't sound totally coherent and that disturbed him.

By now, the steep climb had gotten to the ranger and his breathing was starting to pick up. His breath came in fast gasps and his legs were starting to burn, but at least he could use them. Legolas hadn't been able to be free and move around as he wished for weeks now... As they grimly continued to move higher, he once again vowed that they would make it to Rivendell, and that Legolas would recover.

They were just reaching topping the highest point, lending them a truly spectacular view, when the horse that was currently following behind stumbled and stopped, giving a whinny. Aragorn turned, keeping a hand on Legolas' knee.

" _Sinome_ ," Aragorn called, beckoning the horse forward. /Here/ The horse whinnied again, tossing its magnificent head as if to say, 'no, you come here." Casting his eyes heaven ward, Aragorn shook his head. Turning back to Legolas, he quickly helped the elf twist his fingers into the mane/ "Hold on so that you don't fall," he ordered and moved to the horse.

Talking softly to the creature, Aragorn bend down as the horse dutifully lifted his front leg. A large rock was stuck in its hoof in such a spot that it would be painfully. Aragorn was digging out the rock with his dagger when the other horse let out a startled call. Looking up, Aragorn cursed, leaping to his feet as he saw that Legolas was tilting dangerously to one side.

"Legolas!" he yelled taking three giant steps and grabbing the elf's shoulders. Attempting to heave him back upright, he felt panic beginning to fill his chest. "Answer me, _mellon-nin,_ " He began to pat his cheeks urgently as he tried to drag him off the horse and to the safety of the ground. Legolas' fingers were locked tightly in the horse's mane, refusing to let go. "Legolas. Legolas, let go," he said, trying to balance Legolas' weight and pry his fingers free.

"No," Legolas whispered, shaking his head feverishly. "No."

"Yes, Legolas. I will not let you fall." Aragorn shifted the elf's light weight.

"Estel…Estel said not to let go."

"Well, yes, but now Estel is telling you to let go." The horses shifted nervously and Legolas was jolted forward further into the man. "Come one, let go." Hesitantly at first, Legolas began to slow release his death grip until Aragorn caught him as he tumbled forward and eased him to sit against a rock.

"I don't feel good…" Legolas mumbled as he let his head sink towards his chest.

"I know," Aragorn soothed, tenderly brushing back the wayward hair from his face. Pausing to lay the back of his hand against his cheek, he frowned. Legolas' temperature had spiked on him and the elf looked to be at the end of the line. He lay listlessly against Aragorn with his eyes closed, struggling to draw in air. "I know." He allowed the elf to rest against him for a minute, but time was not their ally in the long distant race and he was scrambling to his feet far too soon.

"Don't…don't leave," Legolas begged, grabbing the blindly for the man and finding his boot. "Don't…" Aragorn knelt next to him once more, taking his hand.

"Why, Legolas? Do you need something?" Legolas didn't respond immediately, drawing in large gasp of air and when he did, his words were jumbled and confused. "I'm sorry, Legolas, I didn't understand a word of what you just said," the man said helplessly. "Listen, I'm just going to step over here, alright?" He rose, lightly patting the elf's knee before moving back to the horse with the rock.

Finishing with the horse swiftly, Aragorn found the elf exactly how he had left him.

After rearranging Legolas and himself on the horse, the ranger started them off as safe as it was possible to go. An oppressive silence lay heavily on Aragorn as Legolas once again drifted off to sleep against him, but it was soon broken as his fever only continued to rise.

"Estel, Estel…Aragorn. We, we, have to go," Legolas whispered and thick words could barely be heard. He lurched forward and Aragorn caught him with one hand pressing back against his chest, easing him into his arms once more. Legolas coughed, a thick rasping sound and then stilled against the human, drifting off for several minutes.

"Aragorn...!" The elf jerked abruptly back to the waking world, his eyes wide. "Aragorn," the elf's voice was growing increasingly panicked and the ranger brushed a quick, brief, kiss against the top his head and began shh him gently. "No… Aragr, daro!"

" _Sido, sido,_ Legolas, " Araognr whispered, once more tightening his grip, though he did not slow the horse any. "Be calm." Legolas did not listen, and Aragorn began to have more trouble with the elf. "Legolas." The word was calm, but stern, a tone that the prince would sometimes respond to when he was in such a state. To the man's great relief, the words had a small effect on Legolas and he stilled as more confused words slipped rapidly from his tongue.

Murmuring something soothing into the prince' ear, Aragorn slowly began to pat the elf's chest in a slow, rhythmic calmed further, but as soon as he drew back and his voice fell silent, the elf twisted urgently. A word the human could not quiet detect flew from his lips, and he hurriedly leaned forward, talking softly in his deep, steadying voice once more.

He filled the air with his voice as they pounded down the pathway and towards the elf's hopeful salvation. When he could no longer think of anything to say, he began to tell stories of happier times, or stories that had been told to him from his travels.

Legolas drifted in and out of them. It calmed his distressed and fevered mind to hear Aragorn's voice. It was calm, constant. Letting his head sag forward against his hurting and straining chest, he felt a smile trace his lips even though a nasty taste was filling the back of this throat from his last fit. He couldn't remember if it was because Aragorn had forced more drugs down his throat or if it was from the blood that he had started coughing up along with the phlegm. That was becoming more and more frequent, though he had tried to keep it from Aragorn. It wasn't much, just enough to flavor his tongue and the human didn't need the knowledge or worry that this revelation would bring.

Aragorn's voice drifted back over him, and then his cool hand was against his brow, pulling his head back to rest in the hallow of his neck, and he was lost to the world of sleep once more.

THEHANDSOFAHEALER

Thranduil let his shoulders slump as he found himself alone for the first time in what seemed to be ages, or at the very least days. His thoughts drifted, and he atomically found them going were they always did these days. Legolas. Resisting the urge to sigh, he rubbed his temples tiredly. The last time he had been alone had been when Legolas and Aragorn had departed and he was alone standing in the rain.

The skies were clearer now. Crossing to his balcony in five large steps, Thranduil forgot all about his hope to get just an hour of sleep, the first he would have had all week, and cast his gaze instead over the vast forest. Legolas was out there, dying slowly but surely. Though the king new full well that Aragorn would care for his son, and would willing give his life for him, it did not sit well with him. Why had Legolas volunteered, even wanted too, to make such a dangerous, risky journey?

Yet it was necessary, that much he did understand. But why _his_ son? Legolas had already given so much to Mirkwood.

Taking a shuddering breath, the old elf wrapped his fingers around his arms as he bent to lean on his elbows. His eyes lifted to the heaves, to the bright stars and moon. A playful breeze caused his long, blond, hair to catch and lift lightly off his shoulders.

 _Wherever you are, my son, please just hang on,_ he pleaded. There was so many things he should have said to his child, but hadn't. What if Legolas never got the chance to hear them now? _Please bless my son. Bless Estel. Bless my people_ , he prayed, hunching in on himself.

A soft rap against the hard, wooden door made Thranduil jerk upright, straightening his robes as he did so. His time alone was up, it was time to go back to his people.

"Come in."

The dark door opened and a messenger entered. Her head was bowed and Thranduil could almost see a physical weight on her shoulders. A dread filled his heart and the king motioned for her to speak.

"We have lost another elf, _Hir-nin._ Arminas." Thranduil closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging. Aragorn and Legolas were Mirkwood's only hope.

TBC...

 **Well, their only hope is struggling ever forward.**

 **Review Replies:**

 **Bellasiel:** Well, there wasn't quite as much trouble this time around, but I do have to give them a break every now and then. :) I am so glad that you enjoyed the last chapter! Thanks so much!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Ah, the weekend! I seriously wish that I could just sleep the weekend away...**

 **Thanks so much everybody for reviewing and reading! It means the world to me!**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Eight

"We should stop," Aragorn said, throwing a worried glance at Legolas.

"We keep going," Legolas insisted stubbornly as he tightened his arms around his chest as if he could stop the pain and the racking coughs that were threatening to overtake him.

"Legolas!" Aragorn snorted in derision. "You are taking on an ashen color, and I can tell you are just holding back the coughs. We are going to stop for just five minutes and letting you rest."

"No, Aragorn, we don't stop. I'll be fine," Legolas urged, hunching forward. Aragorn laughed sarcastically.

"I seem to remember you swearing to me that you would do as I said, and I say that we stop," he stated, already in the act of pulling the horses up short. Legolas opened and shut his mouth, his eyes wide.

"But Estel, we must keep going," he demanded through gritted teeth. Aragorn had never said that he couldn't argue his point, and, honestly, at this point he was miserable enough to be past caring what he had and hadn't said before.

"It is only five minutes, Legolas," Aragorn tried to comfort. "Besides, the horses could use the break. We have been pushing them hard."

Refusing to take no for an answer, the man pulled the animals to a stop and dismounted from the horse with ease. Grasping Legolas' arm, he pulled him down as well. Legolas was still protesting in a harsh whisper, but even his light weight proved to be too much for his legs and his knees folded on impact with the ground, but Aragorn was there supporting him.

"I can walk," Legolas hissed dangerously as the man moved to sweep him into his arms. Aragorn rolled his eyes, but wrapped an arm around his waist while ducking under the elf's arm. Shuffling forward with the man carrying most of the weight, they stopped next to a large tree.

"Now, you just sit for a moment. Catch your breath, alright," Aragorn instructed as he helped ease the elf down. "I'm going to go take care of the horse."

"Five minutes, Aragorn, that is all," Legolas growled faintly in-between shallows breathes and Aragorn nodded. Getting to his feet, he walked towards the horses while throwing anxious glances over his shoulder. As soon as he was out of ear-shot, he blew out a breath, running a hand through his dark hair anxiously.

They were traveling as fast as humanly possible without killing either Legolas or the horses (he knew it was by far the fastest he had ever traveled this path), but he didn't know if it was enough. Legolas' body was failing. After descending the mountain, his breathing had eased and his fever had lowered, but once again Legolas' seemed to be slipping from him. He hadn't been able to convince the elf to eat anything over the past day and his coughing was getting worse. Not only that, but it was taking him longer and longer to catch his breath after each attack.

Reaching the horses, he sighed. They were both munching contentedly on the grass, taking advantage of the break. Reaching out, he placed a hand on each of their noses, and they looked up at him.

"You, my friends, have done well," he whispered in elvish, rubbing their velvety noses. "And I know you are tired. But I must ask for more. You see, Legolas, your friend, is very ill and our only hope is your speed. You must push yourself harder, for Legolas and all your other elven friends. We are close, we just have to make it to Rivendell." The horses were still, but Aragorn could sense that they had heard and understood him. The horse currently carrying the baggage tossed his head with a nicker and Aragorn smiled. "Thank you, my friends. I assure you that when we get to Imladris you will be free to rest and eat all you want." Rubbing their ears, he turned back to face Legolas.

The elf was no longer were he had left him and his heart dropped. "Legolas?!" he called anxiously as he hurried back to the tree. His heart rate had doubled in a matter of seconds and his breath was catching in his own chest. The elf was lying beside the tree on his side, eyes closed. Could nothing go right, he swore he had only been five minutes with the horses.

"Hey, Legolas, answer me," he said, sliding to a stop in the dirt on his knees. "What happened?" he demanded rather forcefully as the blue eyes cracked open.

The voice above his head startled Legolas. His chest hurt, his body hurt, and everything was fuzzy. There was something he should be remembering, he knew that much, but his head was spinning around.

"Legolas." The voice was back, firm and commanding. He had to obey. Working up the effort, he cracked his eyelids. Aragorn's blurry from was above him and he let them slip shut again as the world revolved dizzyingly around them. He distantly remembered Aragorn saying something about them having to go, or maybe that had been him.

He just remembered sitting against the tree. The walk here hadn't agreed with his aching body and he had almost started to wish that he had at least allowed Aragorn to fling him over his shoulder when everything had abruptly started swirling before everything had gone black. Had he actually passed out? The thought sent a blush creeping across his face. Aragorn's voice drifted across his ears, but he was having a hard time focusing in on it. All his body wanted to do was rest, and his mind was having a hard time competing against that urge.

Besides, the ground was cool against his hot cheek. He could rest here for what remained of their five minutes, couldn't he? Then...then he would have the energy to get up.

Someone was shaking him his shoulder gently. _Had it been five minutes already?_ He couldn't think clearly and he cursed the illness. He was rolled over onto his back and his body did not fight the action. He was close to blacking out again. A hand removed the arm that was draped across his side. The fuzzy buzzing grew louder. The man's cool hands touched his face once, before moving to undo the ties on his shirt. They began to poke and prod, sending sharp waves of pain across his already hurting chest. He heard someone moan, he might have been him, before he twisted, trying to shake the fingers. The hands were back up to his face, pressing comfortably against his skin. Everything grew even fuzzier, if that was possible. Dullness crept upon him, and then everything was gone.

Aragorn carefully shook his Legolas' shoulders, still calling his name, but it appeared as if the elf was out for good. Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, Aragorn gave his still companion a long look. Maybe it was better this way.

Parting the prince's open tunic, he laid his ear against his friend's bare chest. Slowing his own breathing and stilling his nerves, Aragorn tuned all his senses to his ears. The elf's lungs were full of congestion, he could hear it easily. The heartbeat, on the other hand, he discovered as he moved his ear to the left, was hard to discern and frightingly weak.

"Even your legendary endurance may not be enough," he whispered to Legolas as he measured each breath and gauged his temperature. "But we will give it as much aid as possible." Pulling the elf back up into a sitting position, he heaved him into his arms and crossed to where the horses were waiting.

The human had never seen horses push themselves so hard or so fast. He was amazed by the speed they were going without him even having to tell them to, and not for the first time he wondered at the abilities of elven horses. His heart lifted for the first time in days and he felt hope springing back into his soul.

The sky didn't share the same optimism, however, and the clouds which had blessedly left the sky for their trip over the mountain had returned to darken the sky.

The rain began once more early in the next morning, covering the star's feeble light and leaving them in pitch blackness. This time Aragorn and Legolas, who had thankful returned to awareness not soon after getting back on the horses, were forced to stop until dawn cast her light. The elf didn't passing out, for which Aragorn was grateful. He didn't really need to deal with a surly and mad elf along with the tired and ill one that he had. He managed to settle the elf down into a fitful sleep after hearing much complaint that they were wasting time and only with the promise that he would wake him at first light.

Once the sun had showed her face, they were one their way again and nothing of excitement happened until they reached the river. That was when everything began to go wrong.

The river stretched on for several miles to the north and to the south and was trademarked to be deep and dangerous. It's swift current was not one to be considered lightly when crossing, but over the years a few fords had been created to get around the problem. The nearest crossing to Aragorn and Legolas did not take them far out of their way, and so instead of chancing the crossing on their own they made for the ford.

The slow, deep, thundering of the rushing waters was the first clue that they were nearing their destination, but Aragorn felt his heart drop. The winter had been a wet one, and the spring not much better. The already normally high river was instead of lapping at the shore, eating hungrily away at edges and tearing into the ground.

"I don't fancy having to cross that by horse," Aragorn murmured as he leaned forward to talk to the elf. He slowed their panting horses to a walk, eyeing the water crictially. Legolas shifted uncomfortably, tightly gripping Aragorn's wrist to show he had heard. "Good thing we don't have to. The ferry is ahead." He pointed with his free hand to a not so distant shape. The fairy was common property, free for any traveler to use and Aragorn had never been more gratefully for it as he was now as he watched the river roaring past.

However, as they approached the ferry, they found it already occupied by three tall, burly, men. Their clothes were stained with all sorts of foul looking substances and their hair was wild and matted. A sword glinted on the belt of one, while another hosted a wicked looking bow. They were lounging on the ferry as if they owned it and merely glanced up as Aragorn pulled up short in front of them. Aragorn raised an eyebrow, staring at them with uncertainty.

"Hail, good men," he began civilly despite his misgivings. Squeezing Legolas hand lightly to say that he would be just a moment, he swung off the horse. One of the men, the leader Aragorn thought, nodded curtly. "May I use the ferry?" Aragorn held his arms out lightly, showing that he held no weapons at hand and was not dangerous.

The leader stood slowly, eyeing Aragorn critically while chewing on a blade of grass. His dark, beady, eyes moved past him and scrutinized Legolas. "What's wrong 'ith 'im?" The man's tone was rough and blunt, but his eyes darkened as he jerked his head at the elf. Legolas raised his head slowly.

"He is injured," Aragorn said with a sudden note of caution entering his voice. He subconsciously shifted to the left, blocking the men's view of Legolas. His hand dropped down to the handle of his sword. The leader leaned back, giving the injured elf a steady look over, before smirking. Aragorn's glare darkened dangerously and he stepped into the man's personal space. "We must cross. If you are not going to use the ferry, then step aside."

The man laughed and yet did not make a move to stand aside. Aragorn's eyes narrowed.

"It is a reasonable request. Move _now_ or this will not end well for you."

The leader stepped forward, holding out his hand as he purposefully let his cloak part to revel an impressive collection of daggers. "A reasonable request, you say? A reasonable request is thirty pieces of silver."

"Thirty pieces of silver!" Aragorn's eyebrows shot up as he gazed in bewilderment at the man. He glanced briefly behind him at Legolas, before shaking his head. "No one can pay thirty pieces of silver. Now, please let us pass. We cannot terry for such silly matters and I have the means to make you let us through." The men were all on their feet in seconds, various weapons clutched tightly in their meaty fists. The man with the bow trained his arrow on Aragorn's chest and pulled the string back.

Aragorn snorted, and with a flourish pulled out his own sword. "My friend and I must cross, but I am sorry that it has come to bloodshed," he said softly as he took his defensive position. The other men began to circle towards him, their faces grim and tough. Aragorn back peddled steadily as he moved himself in front of Legolas.

"The odds are against you, man," the leader laughed as he twirled one of his daggers. "But by all means, fight your way through." He bowed mockingly, gesturing for Aragorn to go ahead and pass if he dared. Aragorn smirked. If only these men knew that they what they were dealing with a human trained by elves. Raising his sword just a little higher, he was about to take a step forward when a single word stopped him.

"Estel…"

Closing his eyes, Aragorn half turned to look at his friend, keeping the other men in his line of sight.

"No, Estel," Legolas whispered faintly. His hands were white with the effort of keeping himself upright and his eyes slipped shut and he leaned forward further against the animal. "No bloodshed."

"But Legolas—"the man stopped, taking a steadying breath. He switched over to elvish and began speaking rapidly. "Legolas. I have to get you across the river, and it is too dangerous and flooded to cross without the ferry. We don't have thirty pieces of silver, but if we did, I would take that road. What else am I supposed to do?" His voice was soft and desperate, his eyes begging as he locked eyes. Legolas heard his tone and sluggishly blinked his eyes, glazing unfocusedly at the other men. He struggled to free a hand from the cloak that enfolded him and reach out. Aragorn took it, squeezing gently. The skin was hot against his.

"Check…check pack. _No_ bloodshed. You... _you_ mi'ht, hurt." Aragorn nodded, moving around to the second horse.

"Are you coming or not?" A snide, jubilant voice called and Aragorn scrunched up his face at Legolas. A faint smile appeared on the prince's tired and weary face.

"I am seeing something. If you make a move towards either of us, I won't hesitate to kill you," he warned shortly. Turning his back on the men, he swiftly dug through the prince's pack and it wasn't long before his fingers closed around a small, but clinking, pouch. Unstrapping his own, he pooled their money together.

Nineteen. Combined together they only had nineteen. He met Legolas' eyes slowly and the elf instantly read the message written in them.

"No fighting, please," Legolas begged. His puffy, red shot, eyes were pleading and his already flushed face was glowing with intensity. Aragorn sighed, shaking his head as he reached up and cupped Legolas' hot cheek and brought their brows together.

"Thirty is a mighty high price," he declared, turning and striding confidently forward. "Fifteen."

The lead laughed, long and hard. Aragorn stood still, waiting. "Who are _you_ to set the prince?!"

"You don't want to know. Fifteen." Aragorn crossed his arm, drumming his fingers.

"Twenty-five," the leader bargained, leaning forward and idly chewing his strand of grass.

"Seventeen."

"Twenty-five."

"Seventeen, that is my final offer." Aragorn glanced into the other man's eyes. The man looked around at his men, and then nodded and held out a hand.

"Seventeen, then, my friend." The man grinned toothily, showing a broken tooth, and Aragorn shook his hand firmly. Pulling out the bag of money, he carefully counted out the amount of money owed and placed it into the grubby outstretched palm. "MEN! Untie the ropes!" he called gleefully over his shoulder, jingling the money for all to hear as he motioned for Aragorn to bring the horses over.

Aragorn gave him a spiteful glare, but turned back to Legolas.

"No bloodshed, see?" he said as he gathered the reigns and reached out a steadying hand to Legolas, who was leaning enough to the left for it to be a cause of worry. "And a great abundance of two extra pieces." Legolas again offered that half smile, but it was strained. Sure enough, as Aragorn began to lead the horses forward, he buried his face in his shoulder, letting out a serious of deep, tearing, coughs.

"What's wrong with him?" one of the men called, stopping his work as he straightened.

"I told you, he's been injured," Aragorn snapped, his patience with the men gone. He placed a hand on Legolas' arm, silently supporting him.

"Sick. He is sick, not injured." The tone was fearful and Aragorn felt a chill go through his veins.

No, injured! He has been poisoned," he corrected, letting go of Legolas and striding forward.

The leader gestured for the men to continue releasing the craft from it ties.

"Did you also pass through the village only twenty miles to the west? Did you also tell them that you had someone who was 'injured'?"

"I don't understand," Aragorn said truthfully, confusing coloring his words. He took another step forward and the man stepped back. Another step back and he would on the raft.

"That village was almost destroyed from a sickness that a stranger brought. They took that stranger in and tried to care for him, but we aren't going to make that mistake. No." The look on the man's face was vicious and Aragorn felt a snarl forming on his face.

"NO!" he yelled, pushing his legs into a sudden run. But the man had leaped onto the ferry and another man was pushing off using a long pole. The man with the bow had whipped it out again was taking careful aim. The wildly rushing waters jerked the ferry as it entered in deeper and the arrow just missed Aragorn as he also plunged into the water.

"BUT I SWEAR HE ISN'T—YOU COWARDS!" Aragorn broke off, putting all his energy into reaching the ferry. It wasn't that far out, he could still make it. The spray of the foaming water hit him in the face and the smashing tide soaked him to the skin. He lunged forward and his fingertips just caught the edge of the wood, but a boot descending on his already slipping hold broke it. Tumbling under the water, he rose coughing and spluttering.

The water was now up past his knees and he knew that he tried to venture out any further, he would be in true danger of the tide.

"At least give us back our money!" he shouted, shaking his wet hair out of his face. It was a last desperate hope, and if the men were actually stupid enough to come back with his arm's reach... well, then they deserved what would happen to them. The distance between them continued to grow and Aragorn slapped the water with a crack.

Over the thundering of the river, the men's laughter could be heard and Aragorn glared hotly in their direction. Safe passage through the river, seventeen pieces of silver and their precious time had been wasted for nothing. Cursing, he slapped the water once more for relief of the tension building in him, before cursing again. He watched the man make safe passage to the other side and deflated. He had the darkest filling that they wound not send the ferry back over, which meant they would have to find another way to cross.

TBC...

 **Oh dear, just what will they do now. I mean, they will have to do something, but what is the question. :)**

 **Review Replies:**

 **WoodelfJedi:** I'm sorry for my cliffhangers. Sort of. But as you can tell I'm slightly addicted to them. :) Well, now you can worry some more. ;) Thanks so much!

 **Bellasiel:** Oh, thanks so much! I'm really very glad that you are enjoying it so much! Well, as for reaching Rivendell quickly...it isn't going exactly as they planned it too. :) Thanks again!


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N I kept thinking today was Thursday... which meant I kept forgetting that I had to post. But luckily, it didn't go that far. :)**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Nine

Slipping and sliding his way back to land, Aragorn made his way over to Legolas.

"I'm sorry, Legolas," he murmured quietly, stopping next to him. The elf looked even more winded then normal after his latest episode, but shrugged.

"You…did...what you…could," he said softly. Aragorn shook his head, placing a finger against the prince's chapped lips.

"Don't say any more, please. It hurts just to listen to you try." Aragorn turned, slumping against the horse as he folded his arms again his chest.

"Estel—"

"You promised to obey my every command and I am telling you to be quiet," the man snapped, rounding on the elf with frustration clear in his eyes. Legolas cocked an eyebrow, staring silently at the man and Aragorn deflated for the second time that day.

"We have to cross the river. It is too far to go around." He looked over his shoulder and across the river. The men were still standing there, looking at them and laughing. He hated them, he hated what they were forcing them to do. "We will have to go to the next crossable point. There is no ferry there, but we might be able to cross on foot. However, I think that it will be easier to cross on foot there than here, it was my second choice."

Legolas nodded in agreement and the man sighed.

"Do you feel up to riding on your own?" Aragorn asked somewhat hesitantly, gesturing at his wet clothing. It wouldn't due to have both of them soaked from his trip to the river.

"I'll be…fine," Legolas said with a feeble grin, using his you-probably-shouldn't-be-trusting-me-but-I-know-you-will-anyway voice. Aragorn didn't believe his words for a minute, but still stepped back and went to his own mount.

Leading the way (with Legolas' horse reigns clutched in his hands as well as he didn't trust the prince that much in his current state) they followed the rushing river. He glanced over his shoulder every few minutes to make sure that the elf hadn't managed to fall off the horse and each time found him in the same position; hunched over the horses neck and looking as if only his will was keeping him mounted.

Dusk was creeping up on them when they at last reached Aragorn's destination. The river roared on just as powerfully, but the sound had dulled somewhat after a few hours of listening to it.

Tossing his hair out of his face as the wind playfully swung it across, Aragorn dropped off his horse's back. Crossing to Legolas, he looked out across the water.

"What do you think?" he asked as he pulled off his own cloak. He was planning on getting wet, so the already damp material did him little good.

"Better now…than…never," the elf replied softly, shifting positions and gripping the horse's mane tightly.

"Agreed." Aragorn took a deep breath, looking back across the thundering waters. Rolling up his sleeves, he began to walk the length of the shore, trying to path his way across. Legolas closed his eyes, allowing himself to flop against his faithful steed.

Suddenly Aragorn was shaking him lightly.

"Are you ready? I'm going to lead the horses across, but I need to know that you can hold on." His voice was worried and Legolas raised his head groggily.

"I'll be fine," he assured, but it was clear that Aragorn still had his doubts. Reaching out, he brushed Legolas' cheek and the elf raised his head further. The blue eyes were bright and dull at the same time; bright with fever but dull with exhaustion.

Turning, the human grabbed the reigns and lead the horses forward towards the frothing, rushing, water.

At first, Aragorn could hardly feel the water, expect for the tugging on his boots, but the water level rose swiftly and soon his still damp breeches were being resoaked. Cursing lightly every few minutes, he moved steadily forward until abruptly the water level dropped and he found himself standing in water up to his armpits. Gasping and and cursing at the sudden coldness and wetness he heard one of the horses brayed nervously. Aragorn turned, wiping his matted, spray soaked hair back. The thundering echoed loudly in his ears, dimming out almost all else and he shook his head at the horse. The horse carrying Legolas shook his head back at him and pranced nervously, unwilling to take the plunge.

"No, come!" Aragorn shouted, staggering as he stopped and the rushing water hit hard. By now, the water had reached his chest and he knew he might have to start swimming soon. "Come!" He tugged at the reigns for all he was worth but the horse only pulled back. _Of course he had put Legolas on the skittish horse._

Giving another tug, Aragorn feet slid out from under him, and the water momentarily closed over his head, the river pulling at his clothes as he attempt to come back up. Fighting his way to the surface, Aragorn suddenly found the water to deep to stand in and, excellent swimmer though he was, he felt himself going under once more. Another deluge of water hit his face, blocking air and senses before closing over his head. This time, it was harder to return to the top as the river's current pressed him down.

Panic began to fill his heart, but then his head broke the surface only to be tugged almost immediately back under. This time the water would not free him. Clawing his way upward, his chest began to grow alarmingly tight and black spots made their way into his vision. Images of Mirkwood's dying elves began to flash before his eyes and regret soared through his soul. It would be his fault that they didn't receive the cure, and that Legolas would die. The water's fingers yanked on his clothing, bringing him further down. At least he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt long. He would be dead before the elves would be.

A sharp pain exploded against his thigh as something connected forcefully and Aragorn twisted, flaying to catch whatever had hit him. His hand caught something long and hairy. A tail! It had to be the tail of one of the horses.

Clinging to the tail for dear life, the man climbed hand over hand until his head broke the surface. Coughing and gasping, he clawed his way over the horse's back and simply lay there for a minute. The horse nickered, and Aragorn patted it, still coughing. _Poor, poor, Legolas._

The water continued to pound against his legs, reminding him of their danger.

"Legolas!" he choked out, gazing wildly around. They were half-way across the river, it was too late to turn back. "Legolas?" Another wave of water hit him in the face and he turned his head away.

Swiveling further around, Aragorn scanned the frothing waters for the other horse. A low nicker to his right brought his head back around. There, fighting the same truants of water was the other horse and Legolas remained clinging to his neck despite the water trying to shove him off.

"Legolas! Hold on," he yelled. Legolas jerked at the sound and their eyes meet. Relief flooded the elf's face and Aragorn realized that the prince had probably been desperately calling his name and searching for him in the waves.

"Go to Legolas," Aragorn urged releasing his hold for just a moment to point out the elf and his horse. The horse dutifully turned and fought the current until the horses' were swimming side by side.

"Legolas, are you alright?" Aragorn gasped, reaching out to latch onto Legolas' horse. The elf smiled feebly, his lips parting as he spoke, but his already nonexistent voice was drowned instantly in the roaring. Aragorn shrugged helplessly, shifting to get a better grip on the horse. The prince let go of his death grip and reached out, gripping a fistful of the man' red tunic, helping him to struggle further up the horse.

Only Legolas' grip was hardly enough for himself, never mind the heavier man, and both water and gravity yanked on them. Aragorn made a grab for Legolas, trying to steady him, but that only unstabled him and the next instant he was tumbling back under the water. Only this time Legolas with him.

Aragorn just had time to wrap a firm arm around Legolas' waist before the water closed over their head and they were cast back once more into the tumult of the rushing, pounding, liquid.

Aragorn would have cursed if water wasn't pulsing all around him, threatening to kill him. He failed desperately, trying to bring him and the elf back to the surface and life. Legolas was thrashing in his hold, albeit feebly, but it was enough to disrupt Aragorn's attempts causing them to work against each other. An invisible shot of water hit both of them hard, turning them over and almost violently tearing the prince free.

Aragorn only just managed to grab hold in time and felt Legolas' fingers tightening desperately around his forearm. The sound around them was strangely muffled, like a silent stalking doom.

Legolas struggles to reach the surface were slowing and he relaxed back against the man. A few bubbles of air escaped his lips, drifting to the surface even though they could not. Adrenaline coursed through Aragorn's veins and with an unforeseen strength he propelled them to the surface. Breaking the water for what seemed the thousandth time he was met with the roaring of the pounding liquid. "Legolas!" Aragorn gasped, trying to swim with one hand. The elf stirred feebly, straightening weakly in the man's arms. "We are going—" he tried to warn, hoping the elf manage to get a deep breath in, but they were already being sucked back under.

This time, Legolas thrashed about for only a few moments before going limp. Yet Aragorn could not bring them to the surface, not with only one arm to swim with. _If only Legolas was ware enough to hold onto him…_

He was kissing that idea good-bye went he felt Legolas tightening slightly, before his fingers twisted into his tunic. Not wondering at the elf's perfect timing, Aragorn took a chance and let go the friend he treasured more than his own life. If the water was stronger enough to rip Legolas away then the elf would surly die because he couldn't swim, not in his condition, and Aragorn's own strength was waning.

Miraculously, Legolas grip held true and the ranger's hope soared. _They were so close!_ He could feel it in his bones. The downward tug on his shirt from Legolas' weight was as strong as ever, comforting him. A moment later, water was pouring off of them as they broke the surface.

 _WHAM!_ Neither had time to catch their breath before the water seeming angry at their escape slammed them against a narrow, jagged, grey rock that rose out the water like a finger. Legolas hit first, and then Aragorn crashed into him.

The man didn't hesitate but wrapped his arms firmly around the rock, sandwiching Legolas between him and the grey slab. The elf let out a strange, gasping, sound as he hit the rock and his weak grip on the man's tunic was broken. Both of them were coughing harshly and spitting water out, trying to clear their airways.

"Legolas?" Aragorn spit out, gulping in air. Water was continuing to slam over the edges of the rock and into their faces, but he dared not shift higher lest he lost his grip completely. Legolas only kept coughing, a low moan slipping in. The elf's face was pressed into the granite, and even if he wanted to speak, Aragorn didn't know if he could. The man could feel him trembling as the violent coughs continue to tear through his body and out of reflex, he hugged him closer.

" _Alag_!" he yelled, calling for the faster and more reliable of the two horses. " _Alag!"_ Aragorn glanced desperately around. They wouldn't last five minutes in the water, but his grip wasn't going to last forever. Their only hope was the horses. Calling out again, he felt his traitorous grip slip and lurched forward, digging his fingers into the rock for all he was worth.

Legolas shifted faintly, but it was enough disturb Aragorn's hold and he felt his stomach clench as his fingers began to slowly lose traction. _Where were the horses?_ His fingers slipped another notch and Aragorn let out a loud whistle, or at least tried as water continued to splash intermediately into his face. "Legolas! Leoglas, I need you to hold onto me. I can't hold on much longer, we are probably going to go under."

The elf stiffened in his arms, but there was nothing Aragorn had to say to comfort his friend. It was up to the horses now. They sank slowly lower in the water and the liquid crept up to their shoulders.

"Legolas, I need you to grab hold!" Aragorn pleaded once more as his hair was lifted off his shoulder. Legolas was hoisted higher than he was and his weight was pressing down on him, only his arms and face were out of the water. "Legolas!" The elf hadn't moved, but the man jostled him. If they even had the smallest hope of getting out of there, then he needed both arms to swim with.

Abruptly the elf's hanging head shot up and he atomically grabbed the human's arm with shaking fingers. Excitement was clear in his gesture and Aragorn strained to see what the elf had. Water was creeping in one the edges of his vision, he couldn't see anything except the elf's back. But then a whinny broke through the sound of the water crashing over him. Maybe all hope was not lost.

Adrenaline once more spiked through his blood and with a way of survival coming, he found the strength to claw his way higher up the rock.

There _Alag_ was, swimming resiliently towards them.

Laughing with relief, Aragorn clung to the rock. In front of him, Legolas' shoulder was still shaking and he laid his head momentarily against the elf's back, still laughing. As they watched, the horse's head appeared and disappeared but came steadily closer until the stallion was within arm's reach.

Aragorn had the sudden urge to cry. Letting go of the rock with one hand the water immediately began to yank on them, and he made a leap of faith. His other hand lost hold of the rock but a long moment later his fingers curled around the two things that currently matter most to him; the leather of the horse's saddle straps and the cold flesh of Legolas' wrist. They both came to a grinding halt as Aragorn stopped Legolas from streaming past and the horse stopped him from going under water once more.

TBC...

 **You guys should be really grateful. The original ending point for this chapter was much more of a cliff hanger. See? I can be nice sometimes! :)**

 **Review Replies:**

 **ElvenPrincess:** Haha, I promise that they will get there at some point! Maybe later rather than sooner, but at least they will. :) Thanks!

 **WoodElfJedi:** Thanks so much for pointing that out! My arch rival will forever be spelling. :) Haha, I would say that that saying fits perfectly. I mean, yea...it gets worse before it gets better. Thanks again!

 **Idon'tliketoast:** Oh, I am so sorry to hear that. :( That is never an easy experience to go through. I'm very glad to see that you are still enjoying it, however! And yea...me and my cliffies. If I remember right, next chapter is going to be so much fun for me...hehe. Thanks so much!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Wow, I have been running around most of today (one thing lead to an another, and my day just disappeared) so count yourselves lucky that I love you guys enough to take to do this instead of collapsing on the couch and watching Netflix. :)**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Ten

"Good boy! Good boy!" Aragorn yelled over the water, laughing once again as he carefully adjusting his grip on the leather. The horse turned and began to swim towards the bank."Good boy." Reeling Legolas in closer, he fisted his fingers urgently into the wet cloth of his friend's tunic and with a grunt of effort, swung him around until Legolas was also gripping the leather of the horses bridal. Together they clung.

The man shifted his firm grip on Legolas waist, hugging the elf closer, and the prince slowly raised his drooping eyelids. Exhaustion, fear, and sickness were easy to read in his unguarded and dazed eyes.

The frothing water around them began to calm, its slapping touch lessening the closer they inched to shore until it could hardly lap at their chins. The horse stopped in ankle deep water and turned it large, magnificent head to watch Aragorn with bright eyes. On the bank stood the other horse, it head bowed in apparent exhaustion.

Aragorn let go of the leather and landed on his feet with a splash next to Legolas, patting the horse back in gratitude. " _Mellon-nin, hannon le,"_ he murmured shakily before moving to grasp Legolas' shoulders firmly.

"You may let go now, Legolas." Aragorn shrugged under one of the elf's arm, nudging him lightly to let go. "Come, I have you. I won't let you fall." Legolas' finger appeared frozen and he remained with his face turned towards the horse, his breathing rugged, wheezing, and harsh. It was a minor miracle, in Aragorn's mind, that he was attempting to cough out a lung, but it still hurt to hear the harsh sound. "Legolas," he said calmly and slowly. "Look at me, let go of the horse." He reached out, gently rubbing the elf's fingers until they began to loosen.

With a soft sob, Legolas let go and folded against the human. "Wha-, hey, hey," Aragorn said, startled by this most unusual behavior. Silent tears were streaming down the prince's face. "Hey, it's alright, we survived." Legolas only mutely shook his head, staring dazedly ahead at nothing. "Here, how about you come sit down."

Legolas shook his head, pressing his lips together as more tears made their way down his gaunt cheek. His face was pale, taking an almost translucent look. The river crossing had not agreed with him, that was clear.

Wrapping an arm around the elf's lithe waist, he began to drag the elf forward, leading him to a dry, grassy, spot beneath an overhanging tree. His skin was unnaturally cold, especially for having a fever, and the man wondered if he had gone into shock or if it was just from being wet. Easing the prince down into the tall grass, Aragorn joined him.

Wrapping both arms around his friend's shaking, shivering, shoulders, Aragorn began to rock, making soft shhing sounds of comfort. Soft sobs continued to shake Legolas' body, and the ranger began to put his money on the elf being in shock. He just held him, moving hypnotically back and forth as Legolas shuddered against him.

The horses moved past them, taking advantage of the rest and nibbling on the grass.

"I'm sorry." Legolas' soft voice made Aragorn look down.

"Why? What do you…" he asked, hugging the elf a little closer. The elf's tears were still trickling down, slow and steady.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," the prince moaned, continuing to croak the words in a whisper. He ignored Aragorn's words, just shaking his head. "I'm sorry." He began to rock himself, his breath coming in in rapid pants around the words. Shock, it was defiantly shock.

"Legolas!" Aragorn barked. The sharp, forceful voice made Legolas jump and his eyes went wide. After several blinks, the unfocused, glazed look in his eyes slowly left his face. "Legolas," the ranger began again, this time softly and tenderly. "Are you alright?"

Legolas blinked rapidly, seeming to realize for the first time that he was crying.

"I'm…I'm…" he said shakily. He raised a hand, trying to brush his face clear of the betraying tears only to find that he was trembling enough that he couldn't control his hand. Catching Legolas' elbow, Aragorn gently laid it down in the elf's lap. The gentle wind had turned into a stiff breeze and both of them were now shivering as they sat there in their wet clothes as night quickly fell.

"It's alright, let go of it all. It is alright to not be fine."

Legolas pushed sharply away from Aragorn, his eyes flashing with sudden anger.

"I. Am. Fine." he hissed, before he sank towards the ground as tearing, deep, coughs once again shaking his figure. Aragorn swiftly caught him before he could connect forcefully with the ground and gently lowered him to rest in his lap. Hunching over his form, he hugged him tight in the best form of support he could offer.

They stayed that way for a long time, ever after the energy draining coughing stopped. Aragorn protectively bend over Legolas with his head rested against the elf's as he supported him.

At long last, as darkness began to truly fall, Legolas shifted. Immediately, Aragorn leaned back, keeping a steadying hand on the elf's shoulder just in case.

"Estel…" the prince's voice was almost whipped away by the wind, but Aragorn caught it and slackened his grip lightly as he leaned forward once more. Legolas whispered his name again before letting out a soft sigh and allowing himself to still against the man.

"Oh, no, Legolas, we have got to move now." Aragorn shook him, but it was as halfhearted as his voice had been. He himself was exhausted and was trying to fight up the energy to get up off the ground. His body was aching, his right leg especially where the horse had kicked him and where he was sure a praiseworthy bruise was to be forming.

The elf only moaned feebly as he shivered in his soaked clothes. Aragorn's teeth were also chattering and a tiny voice began to speak to the tired, weary, and cold part of his body. _It was, after all, just a few hours and they were both wet and cold. It_ would _benefit Legolas to rest and dry off. Besides, it really was only a few hours..._

"Alright, Legolas, we will rest, but just for a little while." Legolas didn't raise the energy to react and, when Aragorn pulled him partly back, he found that he was practically asleep. "Get some sleep." Lightly rubbing the elf's arm he eased the prince off his lap and pillowed the elf's head on the grass. He stayed on his knees for a few moments longer, before abruptly rocketing to his feet.

They would need a fire, for more than one reason. First and most important they needed to dry their clothes and warm their bodies. Secondly, it wouldn't hurt to have an actually warm meal instead of the tough, dry, bread and meat they had been eating. Well, Aragorn had been eating. Legolas hadn't been up to it, but maybe he could fix something that would tempt the elf.

Shrugging out of his own tunics, he flung them carelessly aside and bent over the elf, freeing him of his freezing and wet clothing as well. Moving swiftly now, the ranger had a roaring blaze up and going before long.

THEHANDSOFAHEALER

As the very first light of dawn began to creep across the inky black sky, changing it to a faint velvety purple, Aragorn bent over Legolas, gently shaking his shoulders.

"Legolas…Legolas, it is time to wake," the now fully dressed man whispered. Legolas did not stir and a flutter of fear touched his heart. "Legolas," he said louder, shaking him more forcefully. A low moan left the prince and he shifted, rolling his head to the side. "No, Legolas, you must awake." The man sighed, patting the elf's gaunt cheek firmly and again issuing the command.

This time and much to Aragorn' relief, Legolas' eyelids fluttered and his rapidly stiffening posture signified that he had once again returned to the land of pain.

"Come on, Legolas," Aragorn insisted. Picking up the elf's hand, he grasped it firmly. "Speak to me, _mellon-nin_ ," The Mirkwood prince only shook his head jerkily. Aragorn let it pass, changing the subject in consideration of the elf. "Do you think you can sit up? I made a thin broth." Aragorn waited a moment to see if Legolas would respond, and before sighing once more. "Alright. Here we go." Sliding an arm under Legolas' shoulders, the man placed a hand gently on the elf's chest and heaved him upright.

Legolas cried out, his eyes flashing open as he made a wild grab and found Aragorn's anchoring arm. His face blanched and his eyes began to roll back as he threatened to go limp in the man's arms.

"Whoa, Legolas take it easy!" Aragorn quickly moved to further support the elf as he let him lay limply against him.

"'m 'lright," Legolas slurred, letting his head loll back. He cracked an eyelid to meet Aragorn's clearly worried face. The man snorted, rolling his eyes.

"You have been over using that phrase by 50 years at the least. Stop staying it, please," he rebuked gently, once again trying to ease him upright. Legolas moaned breathlessly but did not appear to be in as much distress as before.

"I'm sorry, Legolas." Aragorn laid his head momentarily against his friend's and then picked up the flask that he had filled with broth. The warmth of the liquid had soaked thought the skin, warming Aragorn's palm as well. "Here, try and drink some of this, It will give you some more strength." Lightly tipping the top against the elf's lips, Aragorn waited until Legolas parted them before allowing some to dribble in. He watched anxiously for the prince to swallow the tiny bit before doing it all again.

The process took longer than Aragorn had hopped and the light of the new day was truly edging in on the darkness when he lowered the flask.

"Rivendell is hopefully only a day's ride ahead of us," Aragorn said slowly as he corked the flask. "We _are_ going to make it." There was a forced brightness to his voice that didn't carry over to his action as he wearily tied the still half full flask to his belt. Planting a painfully large smile on his face as he used the corner of his cloak to dab at the broth that hadn't quite made it down the elf's throat. "And once we get there and Ada finds the cure and you are all better, then I swear I will never forget the fact that a human had to pull you out of the water instead of you pulling your own stubborn hide to safety." Aragorn thought he saw the corner of elf's lip twitch upward and continued to ramble, teasing the elf lightly as he wrapped his ill companion in his cloak and blanket.

"I'll be right back," he assured as he broke off the comforting mumbling and laid the elf back into the tall, thin, grass. Hurrying over to the almost dead fire, the man swiftly put it out and readied the horses to go. After the bank of the river appeared as if no one had spent the night there, Aragorn returned to the prince's side. Legolas had not so much as twitched.

The worry and panic that had settled into the pit of his stomach long ago began to bubble with new heat. The river crossing appeared to have been too much for the elf, it had drained him of his already feeble strength. The elf had nothing left to draw back on; the clock was clicking faster than ever. It was going to be a close finish to the race, but Aragorn was determined to win.

As the light brightened and the day lengthened the only constant thing in Legolas' rapidly declining condition was his heavy wheezing. It was surprisingly loud and every single breath made Aragorn's heart flutter and his stomach turn over in knots. He kept one hand firmly rooted on the elf's chest, measuring each strained and desperate breath. And then waiting anxiously for the next. The future king of men kept a constant ramble going in an attempt to distract the elf, who was obviously suffering, but nothing he did was helping.

As night once again began to cast her cloak of darkness, Legolas began to mumble softly and incoherently himself, scaring the man more than his frayed nerves could take. That was when he truly begin to push the horses and Legolas to their limits.

The cloud that had been so constant that summer began to darken once more, and Aragorn could not resist a soft curse. If they rode through the night, hard, then they would reach Imladris sometime in the morning, but if it rained yet again there was a chance that they would be forced to stop. Legolas couldn't afford that.

"I don't know, Legolas. I just don't know," he said, wishing that the elf was in a condition that would allow him to give advice. When Legolas chose to give advice, it was almost always sound. The elf only rolled his head fitfully against the man's shoulder, mumbling something that Aragorn didn't even try to understand. The clouds grew increasingly dark as the wind began to pick up, visibly blowing the clouds in their direction. A distant rumble of thunder shook the ground and Legolas jerked feebly, causing Aragorn to tighten his arm that was wrapped around his chest.

"We still got time," he decided outloud. "We can still make a good distance before the storm hits." The elf made no reply. "The race is on," he finished grimly.

Before the storm could strike, though, the venom coursing through Legolas' veins played a card all of its own. The wheezing that Aragorn hated with all the breath of his own body began to slowly, but surely, take one a definite wet, gurgle.

Aragorn, concentrating on other impeding dooms, did not pick up on it until Legolas began to thrash. Violently.

"Hey!" Aragorn swore. The hand that was planted against the elf's heaving chest pressed down, trying to calm his friend. "Legolas," he ordered. His eyes flickered to the sky, gauging the clouds. They were only darkening. "Legolas, listen to me!" The prince's only response was to slam his head into the man's chest and Aragorn grunted, letting go of the reigns as he gripped Legolas' arms forcefully. The gurgling that had replaced the wheezing was increasing, the elf's jaw working franticly.

Aragorn began to hum softly as he hugged the elf close, but the comforting sound was drowned by the rumbling of more thunder and Legolas didn't react. The man frowned and resisted cursing as he only hummed louder. The elf had the past reacted to this method, but even as Aragorn began to sing loudly directly in his ear, Legolas fought him.

Suddenly his friend's far too warm fingers were wrapping around his forearm and digging into his skin. They were squeezing hard enough that Aragorn knew marks would be found there within minutes.

"Legolas, let go and take a breath. Cough! Cough for me, Legolas! Bring it up, cough it out!" But Aragorn had lost all control of the prince. Thehorrible, strangled, gurgling was leaving Legolas' bulging throat as he swung his limbs, his body straining upwards. Aragorn could not hold him down, not as he seized and thrashed, nor could he assist him.

"Legolas!" he yelled, "Stop! Stop! Calm down!" The elf slammed his head repeatedly into Aragorn and he felt his own air leaving his lungs. " _Daro!"_

At the command the horse skidded to a stop and both the straining elf and the ranger were thrown forward against the animal's neck. Lightening flashed and the first few drops of rain splattered against the dirt, but Aragorn had taken his mind completely off the storm. He half slid half fell from the horse's back, dragging Legolas with him. The ranger's legs folded on impact with the ground and the two friends hit the dirt together, Aragorn taking the brunt of the fall. Immediately, Aragorn was on his knees, grasping Legolas by the shoulder so that he could flip him around.

The shocked, desperate, gagging sound was scaring the man, leaving the elf's lips blue as he dug his heels into the soft dirt floor and arched his back. His fingers came together to form claws and he began to tear at his chest with a ferocity that was unknown to Aragorn. His lips were a darkening in color and his eyes began to budge out of their sockets. A trail of saliva dribbled down his chin from his working jaw and not even the drops of rain that were hitting his face at an ever increasing rate could mask the lines of pain and desperation.

"Legolas! Legolas, come on! Cough!" Aragorn struggled to yank the elf's arms forcefully back, but the prince jerked his arm back, catching the man hard in the chin. The man rocked back at the powerful hit, landing in the quickly forming mud. The gasping gurgling hitched and Aragorn scrambled back, shaking rain and mud from his hair.

Legolas was convulsing, his fingers tearing into his chest as his mouth hung open and his eyes rolled back in his head and he went from taunt as a stalking cat to limp as a ragdoll in mere seconds. Along with consciousness, the terrible, rasping, sound faded altogether, replacing it with horrible silence. Aragorn never would have guess that he would miss the wheezing, but this was so much worse.

Legolas' chest continued to heave up and down in a useless attempt to draw breath between his blue lips.'

TBC...

 **Oh deary me. That wasn't a good note to end on, if you ask me. ;)**

 **AS ALWAYS! Feel free to tell me the good _and_ the bad. I'm a touch cookie, I can take whatever you throw at me. :)**

 **Review Replies:**

 **ElvenPrincess:** Well, you didn't get a very long break from them I am afraid. :) And to answer your question, no, I don't think that you did. But that is alright, I understand how life gets. :) Thanks so much!

 **Lord Illyren:** Aw, thanks so much! I hope you survived to this new chapter, so that I could add more pain and angst. :) Again, thanks for reviewing!

 **WoodElfJedi:** Well, that may be so but I am fairly positive that the one above certainly counts. :) I'm glad that you enjoyed it! And at least this time there was no drownings, lack of air, yes, but no drowning. :) Thanks so much!

 **Guest (1):** You would indeed be right about that certain cliff hanger. :) I originally cut the chapter differently, but it was working with length and such so I cut it there instead. I will keep your words in mind. :) Thanks so much for all your kind words and your honest opinion! I love hearing what my readers think!

 **Guest (2):** I'm sorry, but there isn't going to be any Aragorn h/c this time around. Angst, yes. Again, I am sorry that we don't love to do the same thing. Thanks for your suggestion, though! :)


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N There was a time in my life when I was ready to post at a decent time of day... Life... :) Anyway, thanks so much you guys!**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Eleven

The rain truly began to thunder down, its large drops splashing down with the force of arrows that had been released by archers such as Beleg Cúthalion or even Legolas. Thunder was rumbling overhead head and a crack of blinding lighting followed shortly after. Yet, Aragorn noticed none of this. All of his attention was focused on Legolas' dying form huddled protectively in his arms.

"Come on, elf! Cough!" he found himself yelling uselessly as he heaved the prince upright by the shoulders. Legolas' head rolled forward, the horrible gurgling still emitting form his chest. "Legolas, you can't give in now! Not after all…" he broke off. Words were to be of no help, only action would serve and it had better be quick action.

As his mind raced through all the possible ways to save his friend, Aragorn shook Legolas roughly. He half hoped that the simple action would snap Legolas out of it and get him to breath but that was not to be their luck today. The terrible gurgling was intensifying, his lips turning a darker shade of blue if at all possible, as his face turned whiter than fresh snow.

He had to _something._

Wrenching Legolas further up against his chest, Aragorn wrapped both arms around the prince's middle. Clenching his right hand into a fist, he placed it against the soft skin of the elf's belly as his other hand came too lay flat atop his fist. Legolas hung limply in his arms, only being kept from doing a face plant by the ranger's arms.

Without warning, Aragorn thrust his first upwards and into the elf's stomach. Legolas jerked, but the gurgling only worsened and the man cursed. Repositioning himself, he flexed his arms before again slamming his first into the soft flesh. Legolas' limp form doubled over, but unlike the last time, he let out strangled cough. Not even a heartbeat after, it was followed by the sound of rapid vomiting.

Leaning over the prince, Aragorn felt his own stomach turn over. A dark red substance was splattered across the ground. Legolas lurched further forward, retching again. The unique smell of iron that filled the air was enough to tip even a blind dog off, and Aragorn knew this smell far to well.

"That's right, cough it up, don't hold it back," Aragorn murmured, running a hand along the elf's back even as he felt his stomach lurch. Legolas jerked violently, and the action was closely followed once more by splattering. A low sob was wrenched from the elf's lips and the ranger shifted closer. He could feel Legolas' stomach muscles grew taunt under his hand, giving him a splint second warning before the elf heaved up more blood.

"Ara—" Legolas managed to choke out, and Aragorn made a soft shhing sound as he laid his chin atop the prince's head. The rain continued to blast them as Legolas hunched forward, allowing all his weight to rest on the man's arms. His breathing was rough, strained, and worsening, but Aragorn was simply counting his blessings that he prince was, in fact, breathing.

"Estel…" The man almost missed the ghost whisper, but the soft tug on his arm caught his attention. Laying the elf lightly back in his arms, Aragorn stifled a gasp. Legolas' skin was translucent and the blood that was coating his lips and chin only added to the effect. Almost unwilling, the man's eyes were pulled to the pool of dark liquid at their knees. Great chunks of what could only be half-formed clots of blood floated there.

"Shh, Legolas, save your breath," he whispered mechanically. The rain was already clearing the elf's face of blood and lightening the color of the puddle, but Aragorn knew that an absence of the blood didn't make reality leave. Legolas only had a very small window of time in which to get to Elrond and receive the antidote.

"Estel," Legolas moaned weakly again, letting out a harsh cough. A new splattering of blood marred his now white lips. At the sight, Aragorn shook himself vigorously free of the paralyzing fear that had seemed to grip his mind.

"It's alright, Legolas. I'm not going to leave you," he whispered, brushing a kiss against the elf's brow before easing his limp form out of his arms and onto the muddy ground. Legolas cried out feebly and he winced. "I'm just going to grab some water, alright?" His voice rose easily above the elf's anguish , and he momentarily grasped his hand tightly before raising to his feet.

"No, Estel…" Legolas managed, his hand weakly crawling along the earth towards the man's voice. His eyes were closed, he was too weak to keep them open, but he could not longer sense the man and it scare dhim. "Estel…" Everything in his body hurt, pain was all that there was to his existence. His body was failing him and he could tell without a healer's aid that his time was coming. "Estel…"

"I'm here." Aragorn's warm comforting voice broke into the blackness and then he felt an arm sliding under his shoulders, lifting his head off the ground. "I'm right here, but right now I need you to drink this." The mouth of a flask was pressed against his lips and Legolas obediently cracked them. A cold liquid trickled into his burning throat and for a split moment he felt a blessed relief. And then his throat was closing shut, refusing to allow the liquid to pass and Aragorn was jerking him painfully upright. The drink began to drain from his mouth as he once again began to cough before the man lowered him gently back.

He could dimly hear Aragorn telling him to keep holding on, that they were going to make it to Imladris yet, but Legolas was done.

"No, Estel," the words tore at his abused, aching, throat and he allowed himself to admit to the pain just this once.

"Yes, Legolas. We are so close. I'm _not_ going to let you die," Aragorn's cool fingers were pressing against his face, clasping his hand, before moving to slide underneath his legs.

"Please…please…five…fiv-min…" His voice faded off, but Aragorn seemed to understand because after a few seconds he was lowered back to the mud. The human's calming voice washed over him in waves and Legolas clung to his last bit of consciousness.

Aragorn didn't even know what he was saying anymore as he swiftly yanked the fastening on his cloak free and bent over the elf. He tried to use the material as a makeshift tent to protect against the pelting rain, but they were both already soaked.

Legolas wasn't moving, but Aragorn could tell that he hadn't been lost into darkness as of yet. The rattling, sucking, breaths unhinged the man's nerves and he found himself glancing up at the dark sky, gauging the time. His eyes were routinely flicker back to the elf's face, before sliding down to his chest and watching him work so hard for such small reward. They didn't have time to rest.

After barely two minutes had past, Aragorn had had enough. Reaching down to grab Leoglas' arm, he was halted mid-action as Legolas let a single, shuddering word pass between his lips.

"Estel?"

"I'm here, Legolas," Aragorn soothed. Grabbing the elf's lax arm, he wrapped it around his neck and began to lift the elf.

"Does…El…Elrond… need me…alive…?" The halting, forced, question froze Aragorn in his tracks once more, with Legolas half in his arms.

"What kind of question is that?" he blurted out, his heart rate picking up speed. "Of course he does!"

"No." The elf's voice was so quiet that Aragorn was forced to put his ear almost direction against his lips. "Is…a…live…body nee...needed to find…the cure?"

"Yes, Legolas! Do you hear me?! We need you alive!" Aragorn's voice caught, breaking in the middle of his sentence as he clutched the elf's unresisting body to his chest. "You are not allowed to die!"

Legolas only smiled feebly.

"Do not…lie to me…Aragorn…you aren't…any good…at it." He coughed once, and squeezed his eyes further shut, moaning.

"I'm not! I'm not! Legolas, please…"

The prince shook his head, cracking an eyelid long enough to give Aragorn a simple glare. The human caved.

"Yes, Legolas. Ada could glean the information needed from just your body, but you listen to me! You listen to me you stubborn elf!" Aragorn never had a chance to finish his statement. As soon as Legolas knew that his death would not be for nothing, he blindly reached out. Finding Aragorn's hand and squeezing it he felt the man return it crushingly. He smiled hazily at where he thought the man's face was. And then his eyes slipped shut and his head lolled limply back.

"NO! Legolas, come on, wake up!" Aragorn shook the elf harshly, panic seizing him. "You are not allowed to leave, not yet! Mirkwood still needs you. Thranduil needs you! For crying out loud, Middle-earth needs you… _I_ need you." His voice caught in his throat as he titled the much to still prince's head back. His free fingers sought the pulse point on Legolas' hand that he was still clutching.

For a heart stopping moment, he felt nothing, and then a weak thump met his fingertips. The elf was still alive. Clutching Legolas' body to him, he allowed a short sob to be torn from his throat. "No, Legolas...come on, just stay with me." Gathering his friend's still body into his arms, Aragorn stumbled towards the horses.

Lightening flashed and thunder rumbled, yet Aragorn did not seek a place for shelter. Not even as the winds picked up, lashing the rain blindly back and forth did he stop. He shielded Legolas as best as he could, but all to soon both were soaked to the skin. That wasn't even the worst of it, however, for it wasn't long before it began to hail. The small balls of ice stuck them with welting force and Aragorn gave a cry of rage. This was all so unfair. Hunching completely over Legolas and using his body as a barrier, the man cursed.

"Why!" he shouted at the weather as the hail thumped harshly against his back. He could fell the elf's body struggling to breath beneath his own and clutched the elf closer, resisting the urge to sob into the elf's tunic.

They had come so far.

Legolas didn't deserve to die, not him, not like this. He deserved life, a life free of war. He felt Legolas' chest freeze, only to start again. His intake was too shallow, he couldn't go on much longer like this.

Gritting his teeth, Aragorn lifted his head and gave a yell of despair, fear and angry all rolled it one. It was only then, and only because of his vantage point atop a hill and his keen eyesight, that he caught sight of something in the distance. A of light was shinning out in the darkness close to the bottom of the hill and moving ever closer at a steady rate.

Aragorn didn't know who besides them would be crazy enough to be out in the storm, but he was determined to find out. Legolas' chest again stopped moving for a longer than normal period of time before starting up and he his fear became palpable. Kicking the horse into action, Aragorn guided the horse down the hill and towards the light. Maybe, just maybe, help was below. They were too close to Imladris for it to be orcs, or at least he hoped.

As they reached the bottom of the hill, the wind lessened somewhat.

"Hello?" Aragorn called out, throwing cation to the wind. The trees around them were growing thicker, helping to block the storm and he sat up straighter, pulling Legolas with him. "Hello? I know you are there!" No one replied to his please and they continued on. Aragorn began to rub the elf's chest, trying to assist his short, shallow, breathes. "Please!"

"Estel? Estel, is that you?" To his shock, Aragorn heard an answer to his prayer and his head jerked up

"Elladan! Elrohir!" he began to shout, wonder filling his heart.

"EStel, stay where you are at!" That wasn't one of the twins, and Aragorn's heart dropped in disbelief.

"ADA! ADA!" he yelled ecstatically over the storm.

"I'm here, Estel! Just stay put, we will come to you." Confusion was clear in their voices, but Aragorn's heart was soaring, soaring higher than it had since before he had taken step into Mirkwood more than two weeks ago. His father was here, everything would work out.

"Have hope, Legolas, cling to it," he whispered into the elf's ear as he energetically pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

"Elladan! Elrohir! Ada!" he called again, watching for the light to shine forth. "Please, hurry. We need help." Their voices drifted back to him, clearer and louder than before. He still had no clue what his brothers and father were doing out here in a storm, but he didn't question it.

"We?"

"I have Legolas with me. Ada, he needs help, _now_. I'll explain everything else later." Aragorn kicked the horse forward into a walk, scanning for the light.

"Estel!" And then he saw them. Three figures on horseback, lighted by glowing lanterns, were making their way swiftly towards him. The rain continued to come down upon them but Aragorn lifted his head back, laughing lightly as the rain speckled this face. It no longer seemed disastrous, but refreshing.

"Aragorn, are you alright?" Elrond's worried voice came clearly and Aragorn nodded. The elf lord wore a simple traveling tunic instead of his normal robes, as were his brothers.

"It is Legolas. He needs you, Ada," Aragorn voiced, keeping a firm grip around Legolas. The fear and strain in his voice must have obvious because Elrond was off his horse and at his side within the blink of an eye.

"I assume this is what Thranduil wrote about?" Elrond asked a he hurriedly tilted Legolas' head to the side, motioning for Elrohir to bring the lantern closer. "He didn't say what…" Elrond stopped, a deep frown creasing his brow. "Estel, did you know he was bleeding?" Indeed the soft glow of the light fell upon dark blood, both dried and fresh, that lined Legolas' mouth and chin.

"I—" But Elrond overrode his third son.

"I see what you mean. He needs attention, but I would rather not do it in the rain. You may explain everything as we go, Estel." Removing his hand from the elf's neck with his face visibly worried, the lord took a step back. The twins shared a look as they hurried back to their own horses. Elrond, however, took the reign's of Aragorn's horse and ordered firmly. "I will ride with Legolas. Take my mount."

Aragorn quickly followed the directions, his heart thudding with internal fear as he looked at Legolas' sickly face. His relief was rapidly diffusing as fear once again soared to the surface, but this time around he wasn't alone in his suffering. Elrond shifted into place behind the prince and kicked the tired horse into action, spraying mud across Aragorn' already muddy clothes as he did so. Elladan immediately followed suit, but Elrohir waited for the human to mount Elrond's stead before also taking off back towards Imladris.

TBC...

 **Elrond and the twins finally made their appearance! Doesn't that make you guys happy!**

 **Review Replies:**

 **WoodElfJedi:** Haha. I may or may not have intended to scare. What can I say? And yea, I completey understand the whole cliffie/joke thing. Trust me, I was an am a reader. :) But thanks so much! I am so glad that you enjoyed the chapter to that extent!

 **ElvenPrincess:** Suffocating is never fun. Well, actually I really love suffocating in FF, but that is besides the point! :) Life is one looong round of craziness... Thanks so much!

 **Guest(1):** Oh my goodness, I love that movie! Hehe, I am glad that you thought of it. :) And no. The lack of cliffies wasn't going to last, they are just too much fun to use, if you get what I mean. Thanks so much!

 **Guest(2):** OH yes, I do! :)Aw, thanks so much! I am thrilled that you like my story! Well...hopefully the above wasn't too traumatic. :) Thanks again!

 **Lord Illyren:** Haha, well, don't get to comfortable! This story isn't over yet... :) Good luck with that time machine! Thanks so much!

 **ElvenChicken:** Aw, I am so glad that you like it that much! I promise to post everyday for the near future. :) Trust me, your mind isn't strange, or at least join the club of people with strange problems. ;) Thanks so much! P.S. I understand that reference!


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N Again another late night update! But at least this time I have the excuse of having family over. :)**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Twelve

"What, exactly, is wrong with Legolas?" Elrohir asked as they rode towards Imladris. Aragorn saw his father's back straighten, and knew that he was listening as well.

"Venom. And it isn't just Legolas."

"What do you mean?" Elrohir's eyes were wide. Thranduil's note hadn't been very precise, just a very desperate plea for Elrond's help.

"I mean that almost _all_ of Mirkwood's warriors have been inflected."

"What?!" Elladan and Elrohir exclaimed at the same time, horror coating their voices. It was a noteworthy task to poison one Mirkwood warrior but to be able to get all of them…

"I'll explain later," Aragorn said briskly, kicking Elrond's fresh horse faster. Aragorn last track of how long they had been riding, but it couldn't have been more than ten mintues before Elrond abruptly dropped the reins, allowing the horse to pull to a stop.

"Ada?" Elladan asked in a yell as he also yanked on his horse, but Elrond wasn't paying any attention. His face was one of panic as he heaved Legolas into a more upright position. The rain was still pelting them and within instant of Aragorn pulling up his horse next to them, the fresh blood on the elf's face was beginning to run in streams once more.

"Ada!" Elladan repeated louder when Elrond did not answer. Their father flicked his fear filled eyes on him, before turning back to Legolas. Though Aragorn's mortal eyes could not pick it up through the storm, he swore he saw his father's lips shape the words,

"You will not forsake me now, young elf. Not if I have anything to say about it," and felt his stomach sink to his feet. This wasn't happening, not again, he couldn't handle it happening again.

"Legolas!" he yelled in terror, but Elrond was already swinging off the horse and dragging the prince's still form to the ground. "Legolas!"

Aragorn jumped off his horse before she had pulled to a full halt and lunged forward to reach Legolas' side, but an arm flung out and caught him across the chest.

"Ada has this under control," Elrohir said loudly over a clap of thunder followed by a flash of lightening.

"But—" Aragorn tried to protest but Elladan only shook his head. Elrond laid Legolas flat on the ground and leaned over him, leaning over him as his hands sought the pulse point in his neck. Aragorn shook free of Elrohir's hold and dropped down to his knees next to Elrond, his own breath catching as he saw that Legolas was struggling to take in a minimal amount air.

"Ada?" Terror made his voice crack and Elrond glanced up at him. Today, there was no comfort in those deep, thoughtful, eyes, only fear.

"He doesn't have the strength, Estel. He is one the verge of—"

"NO!" Aragorn didn't even recognize that he was shouting, or that he was moving forward again until the twins had each grabbed one of his arms, holding him back. "HE IS NOT GOING TO DIE!" They had traveled to far for this ending. Legolas had been strong though out the whole thing, surely, _surely_ , he could find a little more. If only he had done as Thranduil had asked and left Legolas in Mirkwood, then maybe he wouldn't be dying. If he hadn't—

Elrond's voice broke into his reeling thoughts.

"No, Estel, not if I have a choice. But we have no time, you must listen to me and obey." Aragorn stopped struggling against his brothers, gazing at his father with an unreadable expression. Elladan dropped his youngest sibling's arm, but paused quickly to squeeze his shoulder.

"What must we do, Ada?"

"I'm going to give Legolas at least enough strength to last tell we reach Imladris. You three keep him as warm and dry as possible. Be prepared to leave at a moment's notice." The three siblings nodded and turned back to the suffering elf. Rolling back his sleeves, the healer of Imladris placed one large hand on Legolas' brow and the other on his chest. His eyes slid out of focus and the bright glow that surrounded all elves brightened noticeably. Legolas' almost none existent one sparked briefly.

"We should cover them," Elrohir whisper and together the three of them created a human tent. Separating into a tringle, they lifted their cloaks and touched their arms together. It worked fairly well and the down pour of rain that everything else was experiencing became a mere sprinkling for Elrond and Legolas.

"Aragorn?" The human raised his eyes from Legolas' face and looked up at Elrohir. "What happened?" Elladan nodded, looking expectantly at his brother. Aragorn sighed heavily, wondering where to start. After his tale was told, the twins smiling faces were serious and their usual laughing eyes hard.

"Orcs are growing too smart. They _must_ be destroyed," Elladan whispered vehemently.

"Mm, yes, because not even the great elves of the first age were able to blot them out completely," Elrohir reminded sarcastically. He rolled his shoulders and shifted a little to the left. Aragorn was silent as his brothers discussed the orcs, there would be time for that later. Right now, his eyes were trained on the pulsing light that surrounded Legolas' still form that was growing steadily, if slowly, brighter.

"When did Ada get back?" he asked breaking into their conversation mid-sentence. His eyes flickered to them before back at Legolas.

Elladan smiled grimly. "This afternoon. As soon as Ada heard that Mirkwood was in desperate need and that you had gone ahead, he gathered what he thought was needed and we were out the door within the hour."

"Valar bless Ada," Aragorn murmured fondly. Elrond never turned away a person in need and because of his speed Legolas' life just might be saved.

"I'm going to go gather some blankets," Aragorn said and waited until the twins had shifted to cover his positon before slipping out. Slugging through the mud to the horses, he began to gather whatever dry articles of material he could and held them carefully under his cloak. Slipping and sliding back the others, he ducked under their makeshift tent.

He was just in time to witness Elrond blink back to reality and lean back. Legolas moaned breathlessly, his hand twitching in the mud.

"Ada?" Elladan asked anxiously as he dropped his part of the tent and knelt next to his lightly swaying father. Aragorn hurried to stripe Legolas of his wet clothes and wrap him in dry cloth, but spared a second to glance worriedly at his father.

"I am alright," Elrond said, leaning momentarily against Elladan. "Just weary. Legolas, however, is riding on borrowed time, we must go." The twins hesitated, clearly worried about their father, but Aragorn had seen the full effects of the venom and knew exactly the numbers they faced. So he simply finished wrapping Legolas and lifted his limp body into his arms. He shifted his own cloak to cover the elf as much as possible from the pounding rain and turned expectantly to his father.

"Ada should rest first," Elrohir said softly and in concern as he touched the healer's shoulder.

"NO!" the vehemence in which Elrond shouted the phrase made both twins jump and stare at their father. "I am fine. Elladan take Legolas on your horse."

"But—"

"No, Estel, we don't have time for arguments. My word is law," Elrond snapped, excepting Elrohir's hand in rising. His weakness was shoved aside as Legolas let out a choked cough and he crossed over to Aragorn. Elrohir hovered behind him, one arm outstretched just in case his father had overestimated his strength. Elrond pulled back the edge of Aragorn's cloak that covering the elf's face. Legolas' skin was no longer translucent, though still deathly pale and blood continued to seep out of the corner of his mouth. Elrond shook his head. "He is stronger, but we must not waste a single drop of strength."

Marching purposefully towards the horses, Elrond motioned for Aragorn to hand Legolas over to Elladan once he mounted. Aragorn bowed his head, resting his face against the elf's head in one final act of comfort, both for himself and the prince.

Elrond, meanwhile, swung rather clumsily atop his own horse.

"Elrohir," he said softly, beckoning him forward. "Estel looks exhausted. Keep an eye on him, aright? Don't let him push himself too far." Elrohir nodded.

"Don't you do the same, though," he cautioned pointedly, and Elrond smiled briefly.

"I am not your brother or Legolas. I know my limitations." As soon as the elf lord saw that Legolas was safely in front of Elladan, he kicked his horse into action.

The other three followed as swiftly as their bodies wold let them, but before they want fare it was clear it became clear that the horses that had travled from Mirkwood were worn out. They had pushed themselves to the limit for their elf master, but now the sense of urgency was no longer hung over them and their steps slowed.

"Go ahead and ride on," Aragorn shouted over the rain at Elrohir, who merely shook his head. Elladan, Elrond and Legolas had already left them far behind and the man would be lying if he wasn't annoyed that Elrohir hadn't done likewise. "It is not like I can't find my way home. " He was well past his childhood, even if his brothers might not see it sometimes. Elrohir only smiled, shaking his head. The upward curve of his lips slowly pulled down, the weight of Leoglas' condition hanging over both of them.

THEHANDSOFAHEALER

It was morning by time that Aragorn and Elrohir hobbled their way past the gates. Elrond's and Elladan's steads were nowhere in sight and Aragorn concluded that they had been beaten back to Rivendell by half-an-hour at least, he hoped more.

Three elves came running down the stairs to great them. Their faces were calm but Aragorn could sense their internal panic as they took the horse and began to lead them towards the stable. There was an overwhelming cloud of anxiety that was filling the normally calm and peaceful place he could home. Aragorn took the stairs three at a time with Elrohir right behind him and together they raced through the hallways and up to Legolas' room. They were hazarding a guess that Elrond would take the elf there. Sure enough, when they skidded to a stop and pulled open the doors to the prince's personal rooms, they found a flurry of activity.

Elrond was talking to several other healers, directing them with sure commands which they hastened to obey but Aragorn's eyes were drawn to the figure over which Elladan was bending. Legolas' top half was obscured from view, but Aragorn could tell that the prince's condition was not good. Taking a step forward towards the bed he jumped when a hand caught his arm, pulling him back around.

"Ada…" he protested as his father pulled him to the crowd of elves.

"Aragorn, you must tell us _everything_ you know about the venom and cure. What have the Mirkwood elves tried? Do we have anything to go by?" The lord asked feverishly as he began to pace, his hands behind his back. The fire light caught on his clothes, highlighting the weary lines under his eyes but otherwise, there was no sign of the energy he had used to help Legolas.

Aragorn glanced over at the bed once more, and his set his jaw. Launching into speech, he began to talk clearly and simply. He put all his energy and emotion into it, not leaving out a single detail. Only once did he stop speaking, and that was when the sounds of retching and coughing suddenly sounded behind him. Spinning around, startled, he had just enough time to see Elrohir crouched, holding what appeared to be a towel beneath the prince's lips while Elladan lifted his head. Red was rapidly staining the cloth, but that was all he saw as Elrond turned him back to face the front.

"This is how you can help him," he said gently, and the human threw himself back in. He tuned out any sounds that might have been coming from behind him, staying determinedly on task.

After he had finished, he dropped exhaustedly into a chair, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. The others immediately took off in a million different directions, but Elrond paused next to him

"Estel, I want you to go to bed. You also have been through quite a bit these past few weeks." His gentle eyes were concerned and Aragorn met them easily.

"I will, Ada. Trust me," he assured, but Elrond raised a disbelieving eyebrow before calling the same instructions over to the twins, whom he knew would require Aragorn to follow through. They nodded, and he left.

Aragorn slouched in his chair, heaving a heavy sigh, and then pried himself up and moved sluggishly to the side of the bed. He was so tired, he didn't know the last time he had slept for more than a few hours was. The desperate need to get Legolas here and help to Mirkwood had acted as his energy, but now that it was gone, every fiber of his being was complaining.

"Go get some rest, Estel, we will watch over Legolas," Elladan said softly from his position by the head of the bed.

"I know," Aragorn sank to sit on the bed. "Just give me a minute." Not waiting for agreement, the human reached out and clasped one of Legolas' icy hands in his. "He was burning before," he whispered more to himself than to the others. He brought the hand to his lips momentarily, and then went back to rubbing feeling into it. His eyes were locked on the lax, almost empty face.

" _Go to bed_ , Estel," Elrohir insisted, crossing to him, and prying free his hold on Legolas' hand. "I promise to wake you at any change, for better or for worse, but you are about to keel over." He pulled Aragorn up and brought the half resisting man towards the door.

"You hold on, you hear me, Legolas," Aragorn called back over his shoulder giving in at last to Elrohir.

The elf brought him to his room, and after insisting that he eat something and wash (the later which Aragorn viewed as unnecessary) he was put to bed like he was five again. But despite his complaints that he was fine, as soon as his head hit the pillow he was sound asleep.

TBC...

 **No cliffie! Aren't you guys proud of me! :)**

 **Review Replies**

 **ElvenChicken:** Haha, yes! We have put Legolas through rather a lot... us evil fangirls. Well, I hope this relived your pain...at least for a moment. And well...I can't promise anything but I don't know if I _could_ kill him off. :) Oh, and you deserve the recognition! Without readers and reviews, then there is no point in writing. Thanks you!

 **Guest:** Thanks!

 **ARRRRGH:** Was this soon enough? Well, probably not but at least it an update! *hands over a tissue* Thanks so much!

 **Bellasiel:** You might be right to be wary...this is us fangirls that we are talking about! Haha, yes, the ending to chapter 10 for sure wouldn't have been your favorite. I don't think most people enjoyed it. :) Ah, I'm glad you think so! Thanks so much!

 **Lord Illyren:** Oh! I am so glad that you took the time to read my other stories. :) Haha, I don't know myself, but I do know that I still have a lot more ideas. I spend waaaay to much time thinking of new ways to hurt poor Legolas. :) Thanks!


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N This chapter took me for a turn. I guess one can't always stop the muse when they have a firm hold on you! :) Especially when it involves more h/c. ;)**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Thirteen

Aragorn didn't know how long he slept. Once he remembered waking once only to find Glorfindel in the chair next to him, reading a book.

"Sleep," he had commanded without glancing up. "Elrond's says that you can't leave this room until at least noon. Besides, the door are locked and you would have to get past me." So he had slept. The next time he awoke, he felt much more refreshed and normal. Morning light was streaming in through his wide open windows and Glorfindel was gone.

Assuming that it would indeed be safe to get up, he swung out of bed. Wasting no time, he dressed and hurried out the door, making a beeline for Legolas' room.

"You're up!" Elrohir said with a hint of surprise as he straightened from his bent over position next to Legolas.

"Yea, he only slept for more than 24 hours." Elladan smirked as Aragorn frowned.

"I did not," he started out defiantly "…did I?"

"You did," Elrohir confirmed much to Aragorn's disaffection. "You were clearly exhausted after dragging Legolas all the way from Mirkwood, and in record time too, I might add."

"Yes, well, you would travel like you had a pack of orcs at your tails too if you had seen Legolas' condition. "How is he, anyway?"

Elladan sighed, dropping his chin onto his clasped hands. "He is about the same. Ada has been in and out."

"Which is…" Aragorn promoted, moving around the twins to sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, but Legolas did not stir. The twins had managed to settle him down with as much peace as could be afforded him, but the look of somewhat calm on his face could not disguise the pain or discomfort written there. They had turned his head to the side, allowing blood to dribble out onto a folded towel they had strategically placed, and his eyes were sunken deep into their sockets.

"He is about the same as after Ada had supplemented him," Elladan answered tiredly, watching as Aragorn clutched the prince's hand to his chest.

Nothing much happened over the next few hours, the sons of Elrond hardly even moveing. They would occasionally switch the towel out for a clean one, but for the most part they were as still as Mirkwood's prince. Elrond was in and out, but he never stayed very long or administered anything. His face was a mask of grim determination, but not much hope was evident in his eyes. Evening came and went as night descended. Aragorn slowly succumbed to sleep once more with his head on the bed and Legolas' hand still clutched tight enough in his that it would have taken a wrench to pull them apart.

He was awaken, not long later, however, by a flurry of activity and many voices. For a moment he just let the noise envelope him, before blinking his eyes open to find Elrond's group of healers moving about. Elrond was bent in front of Legolas, doing something that Aragorn couldn't see.

"What's going on?" Aragorn asked thickly, lifting his head off his arms. Elrond glanced kindly back at him, smiling grimly as his eyes spoke of his worry.

"We need to be closer to Legolas. It isn't efficient to always be running back and forth to check this or that." Elrond moved the cloth he was holding up to wipe at the blood on Legolas' face. To Aragorn's surprise, he didn't replace the material, even as a fresh drop began to form at the corner of the elf's white lips. "We are going to move Legolas down to the healing halls."

Aragorn blinked once in surprise and a frowned marred his handsome face.

"Legolas doesn't like the Healing Halls," he muttered more to himself than anyone, but Elladan caught it.

"Bette that then death," he rebuked with a wan smile.

Under Elrond's guidance, the team of elves carefully transferred Legolas from his own bed and down three floors and into the healing halls. But they did not stop there, as Aragorn expected, but rather moved straight to Elrond's large and spacious work room, which was located in the back. Here, the elves who were carrying Legolas' body laid him on a previously cluttered table. The clutter had all been shoved to the next table while a white sheet was spread across the now clear wooden surface. The healers coverage on the elf and Aragorn and Elrohir were pushed to the back. Numbers and figures were being shouted out to Elrond and it masked Aragorn's disgruntled sigh.

"I'd prefer it if they moved him to a bed rather than a table," he muttered to Elrohir as they watched Legolas in-between the sea of healers. Elrond has requested Elladan's help, denying Aragorn's instead because, as he had put it, he had already done enough.

"He can't tell the difference," Elrohir reminded gently, placing a hand on Aragorn's shoulder in support.

"No, but it would make me feel better," Aragorn confessed. "He looks dead. You put the living in beds and the dead on tables. My brain is just having a hard time switching and not telling me that he is dead."

Elrohir shrugged helplessly, tightening his grip on the man. "He would look dead anywhere you placed him, if that is any consolation."

"It's not."

After the initial commotion, Aragorn and his brother were able to move closer, taking up their vigil at the prince's side. It didn't look as though the short trip had agreed with him as the translucent look from the forest had appeared once more. He began to shiver lightly now that no blanket covered him, and the ranger took his hand, attempting to rub some warmth into.

"I don't like this," Aragorn stated, shaking his head.

"Neither does Ada. Look." Elrohir pointed at their father and sure enough lines of concern and worry had bitten into the ancient elf's face, and he was snapping out orders which was most unlike him.

An hour again passed, and Aragorn finally left the work room in search of a blanket to make the ill prince more comfortable. He hated and couldn't stand the venerability that encased the normally strong and proud elf. He returned almost an hour later with suspiciously red eyes and nose but no one mentioned it, for which he was grateful. The blanket he had returned with did little good for Legolas, however, as the healers worked constantly over him. The silky, but warm, blanket remained pulled down to his waist.

Elladan drifted over after a while, joining his brothers with a discouraged expression on his face.

"Ada said that I had to take a break, and that you two should too. He might just kick you out, you know, with the mood he is in."

"No, not me," Aragorn said grimly, his face darkening. He was currently kneeling by Legolas' head, with his own resting tiredly right beside. He was gently running a hand through the blond hair in calculated, slow, strokes.

"He is frustrated. He knows that he is close but the answer is still evading him," Elladan defended, sinking to sit against the wall to watch the hubbub. Elrohir sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Aragorn turned his own vigil back to Legolas. His eyes moved from the elf's face, to his heaving chest, and then back again and all too soon he became lost in the simple pattern, therefore jumped a foot when someone tapped him one the shoulder. Looking up, he saw his father.

"I'm not going to move!" he declared stubbornly, his jaw tightening as he remember Elladan's words. Elrond raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not asking you to move…yet. I want you to show me something." He turned, beckoning for the man to follow him. Aragorn stood slowly, giving the ancient elf a suspicious look.

Elrond moved over to the work tables, requesting him to show them what had been in his solution that he had created in Mirkwood. As he poured over his work, Aragorn felt his fingers stop trembling. He knew this, he was comfortable with everything his fingers touched. The smell of different herbs, the feel of them against his fingers, and the sight of so many different ones…it was comforting to know what he was doing.

"His pulse is racing, _Hir-nin._ " At the low voice, Aragorn jerked his head back up, watching the other healer in an anxious tone. "And his breathing is becoming more difficult…" before the other elf could finish his sentence, Elrond was moving back to Legolas' side, Aragorn right behind him.

Elladan had propped Legolas back up as the faint gurgling became more pronounced once again, but it wasn't helping. The prince was hardly able to breath. His throat was straining as his chest heaved and Aragorn froze. This moment and the moment in the rain blended together until he could hardly tell if he was out in the cold once more, or if he was safe at his father's house. And yet again he could do nothing for Legolas.

He didn't realize that he himself had almost stopped breathing so zoned in was he on Legolas until someone slapped him hard across the face. Blinking in surprise, he wrenched his gaze away from Legolas to find Elrohir and Elladan standing in front of him with the elder twin grasping his shoulders.

"Estel, do you need to leave?" Elrohir asked gently. The man had been through one thing after another ever since leaving Imladris and it was clear he was not himself. He was tired to the bone and his emotional state was fragile as they inched closer to losing the prince.

"No! I want to stay with Legolas," Aragorn returned immediately, pushing past his brothers to get to the elf's side. But they moved one to block him, each standing squarely in front of him.

"I want an answer from your head, not your heart." Elladan crossed his arms, worry for his youngest brother clear. "Can you watch Legolas go through this, or do you need to leave. No one will judge you, Legolas would understand."

"He…he needs me! I can't let go now. What…what if…" he trailed, unable to finish the sentence even though his jaw continued to move. Both elves were quiet, but the hard reality was right in their faces, and they couldn't deny it. Silently, they parted and allowed Aragorn to pass.

He slipped into a space by Legolas' head, and the twins moved in closer to their father, who had once more slipped into a healing trance. They could hear Aragorn muttering a prayer, but if it was too Legolas or the Valar was unclear. Legolas continued to struggle to draw in air, it was growing worse rather than better and the tension in the room escalated a notch.

The hurried shouts turned into panicked whispers, and then the prince's breathing stopped all together.

"No! Legolas, Legolas! Come on!" Aragorn's voice was shaky as he clutched all the tighter at the elf's cold hand. One of the elves next to him laid his head on Legolas' chest, listening. Elrond shifted, sensing his patient's distress deeply and the glow around them brightened, pulsing strongly.

"His heart still beats," the elf murmured, lifting his head. "We have not lost him yet."

"Nor shall we," Elrond exclaimed vehemently as he jerked himself out of the trace. He swayed alarmingly and Elladan and Elrohir each took one of his arms, leading him over to a chair. "Give him some of the _Lirva_."

A healer jumped to obey and Aragorn assisted in leaning Legolas upright. Sliding behind him, he supported his light weight and allowing his head to tip back into the hallow of his neck. Someone shoved a bowel into the prince's lap and the room fell silent as another elf pried the prince's mouth open and administered the medicine.

The silence didn't last long as the horrible sounds of retching, heaving, and splattering filled the air once more. The medication was working and soon, the vile stench of blood had filled the air, causing many to scrunch their noses.

As the sounds continued, Elrond made to get up, but Elladan pressed him back down.

"No, Ada, not yet. Give yourself a moment," he insisted, but Elrond shook his head.

"Legolas needs me," he began, "The _Lirva_ was too much, I fear. His body will be unable to handle it."

"He was given just a pinch, _Hir-nin_ ," One of the healers called back.

"See, Ada. Legolas is strong, he will not give up." Elrohir also bent over his father, concern palpable. The sounds of retching stopped and all three glanced over at the table.

"I'm fine, my sons. Go see to Legolas," Elrond instructed, waving them away. With a backward glance at him, the twins passed an elf carefuly bearing the bowel full of bright red blood away. He walked slowly, so as not to splash its slopping contents all over, and Aragorn's eyes followed him.

"How is he?"Elladan asked Aragorn after sharing another concerned look with each other.

"Not good," Aragorn answered, clearly distressed. "That was a lot of blood…"

"We know, we saw."

"But it is alright," Aragorn cut in determinedly, "Because he is going to make it." The twins shared another fearful work. The odds were stacked against Legolas, but Aragorn _had_ seen Legolas through many near death experiences.. The elf hadn't ever fully died on them, not yet anyway. Aragorn was right, it was not yet time to give up _all_ hope.

TBC...

 **Lets all hold onto that hope... Legolas will need it. :)**

 **Review Replies:**

 **ElvenPrincess:** Yes, Aragorn got what we all love the most...a good long nap. At least that is what I always want. :) But anything after that I don't think he enjoyed very much, which is understandable. :) Thanks!

 **Lir:** Well, the number of times I have meant to review and haven't is more than yours, I guarantee! Oh, poor Thranduil... we haven't been to see him in a while, but yea... that is for sure what he would be doing! ;) Legolas might have been a little OOC but, ahh, well. Thanks so much!

 **Lord Illyren:** Haha... yea, don't trust that everything will be alright until the story is actually over. FF have a way of throwing something new at you just when you think everything is fine. :) And yes! The road just keeps getting steeper! Thank you so much for your kind words!


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N Oh my goodness! Once upon a time I was updating _long before_ midnight. Curse other people's FF (and just life in general) that make me want to read instead of update...**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Fourteen

Right foot. Left foot. Then the right again. Twist on the heel, with the left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Twist, this time with the right. Left foot. Right foot…

The endless reputation of his feet had captured Aragorn's attention as he paced back and forth before the doors of Elrond's work room. His hands were clenched tightly behind his back and his eyes were dull as the flickered between the floor and the closed doors.

Elrond had finally kicked him out, insisted that they needed to work over Legolas without Aragorn hovering over them. The man had fought them, rather violently, but at last the older elf had won the battle. His use of Glorfindel and Erestor had helped a great deal. The two elves currently sat against the wall and were under order to watch the human and their eyes tracked Aragorn's repetitive movements, discussing (or more likely arguing) something softly.

Right foot, left foot. Right foot again. Twist.

The door opened with a click and Aragorn's head shot up, his feet freezing as his breath caught. Elrohir slipped out, beckoning Aragorn forward.

"Legolas is waking up. Ada says you can come back in." The words had hardly left his lips before Aragorn was pushing roughly past him and into the room.

"Legolas!" Aragorn called softly and Elrond, who was standing next to the table, looked up. Dark shadows lined his eyes and his pasture was slumped tiredly. He must have been exhausted, yet he was still working with all his might to save Legolas.

Leaning over the still elf, Aragorn smiled gently as the prince's head titled to the side. A distressed sound left his chapped lips and the man reached out, bracketing his clammy cold cheeks with his warmer hands.

"Hey, hey, Legolas," he said gently as yet again the elf whimpered. His eyelids flickered and the man's heart jumped. "You are at Imladris, Legolas. Ada is working on the cure. Hey, do you think you can open your eyes for me?" His words were loud, clear, and slow, giving the elf plenty of time to understand. He repeated the message in the same fashion until the puffy eyelids slit open just enough to show flash of blue.

"Yes, yes, that is it," Aragorn exclaimed excitedly. He clasped Legolas' hand, squeezing it with both of his. The prince whimpered, his mouth opening soundlessly even though his lips moved. Elornd ordered something, but Aragorn paid no attention. "Look at me, Legolas." The elf's eyes shifted slowly towards his and Aragorn squeezed his hand again. Reaching up and brushing back the lank, blond hair, he smiled reassuringly down at him. "We are helping you, you just have hold to on. Your will is strong, you just have to hold on." He endeavored to push as much hope as possible into the sentence, grasping the elf's hand a little tighter and smiling a little bigger.

A tap on his shoulder caused him look around. Elrond was offering a wet cloth and he took it gratefully. Wetting the cracked lips, Aragorn again offered a cheery grin

"We made it, Legolas! We made it to Rivendell just as I said we would." Legolas' fingers twitched in his and he folded them firmly into his as he brought them briefly to his lips. Legolas' lips again moved, but no sound was forth coming. A spark of frustration lighted the dull eyes for a split second and touched the cloth to his lips again."Hey, it is alright. We can talk when you are feeling better, alright?" The human squeezed a few drops of moisture between the prince's lips. "Ada is close, Legolas. Really close. Just think of your warriors and how they will soon be better."

Legolas' fingers were twitching once more. "Be calm, please, Legolas." The prince's swollen eyelids were dropping closed and another whimper escaped his lips. "You _are_ going to alright, Legolas," Aragorn whispered as he wiped the excess liquid off his face. He could see the prince losing himself to darkness once more and he bowed his head, touching their brows together . "And you can't die, not now. Not after everything we have been through." The price's hand went slack in his and Elrond was there once more, carefully prying Legolas' fingers free of his.

"We are close, Estel," he said with a wan smile. No one mentioned that it might be too late for Legolas, no one wanted to consider that possibility.

Elrond and his healers moved in once again, but this time Aragorn was allowed to stay in the room but as they worked, he began to pace by the length of Legolas' bed, his feet finding comfort in the familiar pattern. Twisting his hands together roughly, he kept glancing over shoulders, tuning in to anything that was said as still another hour passed. Another hour later and his legs began to falter. Sinking to the floor, he rested his head on his knees.

He never intended to sleep, but the next thing he knew, someone was shaking him awake.

"Aragorn! Estel!"

"—What! What happened? Is, is it Legolas?" he cried, awakening in a flurry of limbs and falling sideways. Hands caught him, and he blinked his eyes open to find Elladan and Elrohir crouched next to him, wide grins splitting their faces.

"Ada did it, Estel! He did it! He found the cure!"

THEHANDSOFAHEALER

At first, all Legolas knew was pain. It radiated up from his chest and spread to every inch of his body. It consumed his world. But, like the slow trickling of honey from a slit in a jar, the agony began to dissipate. Voices began to weave their way into his mind, sometimes anxious, though at other times they were joyful. Fear, anguish, love, laughter, all these he was able to discern.

The pain remained a constant ache, never leaving him. Sometimes it would swell dramatically and the voices would dim, but in the end it also receded.

Eventually, he was able to pry his weighted eyes open. A figure swam into view. It took him a moment to recognize the him, but then it clicked. It was Lord Elrond, framed by the soft glow of the candle. He began to speak, but Legolas blinked and upon opening his eyes found Elrond replaced by Aragorn, who was smiling brightly. His eyes shut of their own accord, and Aragorn was gone.

It was like a confusing montage of images. Every time he forced his heavy eye lids open, someone was there. It was mainly Elrond and Aragorn, but the twins made their appearances regularly and once even Glorfindel and Erestor. Light and darkness battled over the background, and it was all very disjointing. One minute Elrond would be sitting on his left in the dark, the room lighted by candle, and wearing red robes only for Aragorn to take his place once he blinked. If he blinked again, Elrond would be back, this time one his right and wearing brown.

Bit by bit, he began to be able to leave his eyes open for longer amounts of time, though the pain would intensify for every fighting moment of awareness. His throat refused to open and speak; burning with such intensity every time he tried that he eventually gave up.

One night, he opened his eyes to find Aragorn's back to him as he talked quietly with who appeared to be the twins. Their voices washed over him like a calming wave and, for a moment, he was content with everything going on around him. Aragorn laughed loudly at something, and one of his brothers shed him decreasing the laugh to a low snicker.

"Legolas is asleep, Estel," he heard whom he thought was Elrohir rebuke, and then he was sliding back down the slippery slope of sleep.

The next time he awoke, he found the room empty and silent. Curious at the new change of events, he slowly twisted his head to the side and was reminded instantly that every move hurt. Pulling a sharp, gritting, gasp, he froze as his throat alight with unquenchable fire.

"Hey, Legolas, gentle now." As if appearing out of nowhere, Aragorn was there, leaning over him and taking his hand. He squeezed his hand tightly, brushing his hair back from his eyes. Legolas tried to speak, tried to say the man's name, but just like all the other times, his throat closed up. "You are alright, you just need to calm down," the man said, pressing his hand against his brow.

After a minute of fiery agony, Legolas felt the flare up dying and turned his head slowly to lock eyes with a widely smiling Aragorn.

"Are you finally going to stay awake for longer than a few minutes," the man asked, that foolish grin still stretching his face. He sat down on the side of the bed, tossing his book that he had been reading carelessly into the chair in the corner that he had just vacated. The elf settled for giving Aragorn a confused look, his mind struggling to keep up. "Legolas!" he began without waiting for a reply, "I don't think you remember, but Ada found the cure! He did it!"

The smallest of smiles began to grow across Legolas' face, and he allowed his eyes to slip shut in weary relief.

"You had better not be thinking of going back to sleep yet. Ada says that it is time for you to stop spending every hour sleeping. You have been out of it for almost two weeks now."

 _That_ got Legolas' attention and his eyes flew open.

"Two weeks!" he tried to exclaim, but his throat began to flame, and what words did manage to make it across his lips were low and rough. He would never had believed that it was it was his own voice had it not been for the fact that he felt and paid for each word dearly. He began to cough, the action tearing into his already battered and abused throat.

He felt Aragorn stand and panic seized him. Using what little strength he did have, Legolas flailed his fingers, trying to get the man to come back. A second later, a warm familiar hand closed around his own and clenched tight.

"I'm just going to get Ada, alright?" He heard the man say, but he only gripped the hand harder, refusing to let his friend go, even if it was for his own good. Aragorn sighed heavily, and then the bed dipped once more beneath his weight.

"Are you sure you don't need Ada?" Aragorn asked as he watched the elf take deep, shuddering breathes as the coughing eased. Legolas mouthed the word 'no' and then swallowed thickly. A grimace of distaste crossed his face and Aragorn stifled a smile. It wasn't often that the esteemed prince of Mirkwood made a face like that. He quickly sobered, though.

"You have been coughing up blood," he said, standing. Picking up a glass pitcher and a small glass, he turned to his friend. "You aren't allowed much at the moment but…" he trailed off as he sat back down with the glass. Only the bottom inch or so had been filled with water and he raised it in a question. Legolas nodded slowly, again making the face. "Just take it slow." The man slid an arm under behind the prince's head, lifting it off the pillow as he brought the cup to his lips.

Legolas allowed the cool water to pass between his cracked lips. It was bliss against his dry tongue and the salty after taste of blood. But as the liquid hit the back of his throat, he discovered the terrifying fact that he couldn't swallow.

Gagging on it, he began to choke and splutter and Aragorn quickly elevated his head higher, allowing the water to drain out before Legolas could manage to drown himself.

"Don't panic, just be calm," he said more than once as he waited impatiently for the elf to stop coughing. When he did, he gently lowered him back and grabbed a nearby towel and began to wipe at the water. Legolas shot him a glare, but the man only smiled as he dabbed at the water stains on the elf's tunic.

Legolas sighed, allowing his eyes to close. He was downright miserable. Aragorn was silent, and the elf cracked an eye, looking at him, expecting more from the man than this. He was idly spinning the glass in one hand.

"You gave us quiet the scare, you know?" he said after a minute as his eyes darkened, but they brightened again as he looked back down at his friend. "We almost lost you more times then I care to count. I don't know how many hours I spent begging you just to pull through. It was almost too late for you for the cure to have any effect." Legolas frowned, wondering where this conversation was going. "But you pulled through in the end..." Aragorn was quiet, his eyes expressive, before he suddenly straightened, all business once again as he sat the glass down. "Alright, Legolas, go to sleep We will talk more once you feel up to it." His fingers enclosed about Legolas' forearm, squeezing gently to assure him that he was alright, that he was safe. And then Legolas was once again sucked into the dream world.

To Be Concluded...

 **Aren't you guys happy? Legolas is going to be alright and is sleeping soundly, the poor thing. :)**

 **This chapter wasn't my favorite, but just as a reminder, feel free to tell me how you felt about it and anything that went wrong or that you didn't like! I love getting constructive criticism. :)**

 **Review Replies:**

 **Lir:** Well, now he is all better! Maybe not _all_ the way better, but he better off then he was at the end of last chapter! :) Everyone is feeling happier and better, so you don't have to worry so much now. (Dude, review for me is a rarity (which I feel absolutely horrible for) but I went years, I repeat, years, of just being a guest silent reader. :) ) Thank you so much!

 **Lord Illyren:** Well, I am fairly positive that you will be able to last to the next chapter without too much trouble. :) Alas, the cliffies are over until the next story... when they will without a doubt return with full force. Thank you so much!


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N The last chapter is always bitter-sweet. I have loved writing this story and hearing what you guys thought about it! Thank you so much!**

 **Disclaimer: not mine.**

Chapter Fifteen

"The sun is finally out again it appears to be a beautiful day!" Aragorn exclaimed as he barged his way into Legolas' room.

"So you say. I wouldn't know, would I?" came the elf's disgruntled reply as he rolled over, giving the man a pointed glare. "It's not like I'm confined to bed rest or anything." He sighed, changing positions with a wince. His voice was nowhere near its normal tone, but it was at least recognizable as his now. He was on the mend; it was just taking him longer than they had all hoped.

Aragorn crossed to the windows, throwing back the curtains with what Legolas deemed as far too much vigor.

"You do released that even if we revoked the 'ban' that you wouldn't be able to get out of bed for sake of weakness," the man reminded, raising an eyebrow. Legolas glowered, rolling over. Aragorn rolled his eyes. "Come, Legolas. This kind of weakness is not…well, _a_ weakness. You are recovering from a deadly venom. Anyone save maybe the Valar would be still be in your condition, probably worse. You are stronger currently than many would be. _You are alive._ "

Legolas remained with this back to the human for a few minutes, before rolling back over. "I am grateful to be alive," he said thoughtfully. Aragorn sat down, giving him his full attention. "I remember, vaguely, telling you that I thought I was going to die—"

"Don't remind me." Aragorn shook his head, shrugging as if to shake something off.

"Yes, well, I am very grateful to your father, and you, of course. I don't mean to come across as childish, but it is just that I can't stand this infernal weakness!" His last words were bitter and Aragorn winced.

"You are getting stronger."

"Slowly. I am use to being able to run without breathing hard, not having to catch my breath when all I am doing is lying down. I could go days without sleep before, now hardly hours. Yesterday I had hardly any energy."

"Well, we worked you hard the day before. You are feeling better then yesterday, though?" Aragorn asked. Legolas nodded once. "You look to be. Come, eat a little and you will feel better." The last part was said sternly and with "the look" that Legolas couldn't help the groan.

"But…" he tried to protest. Aragorn was already shaking his head firmly.

"No buts. You got off the hook yesterday, but your strength isn't going to grow by itself." Legolas had been protesting food, insisting that it made him feel worse rather than better, but Aragorn and Elrond were done with that game. He needed food if he was going to get better.

Legolas winced, a green tinge entering his pallid face as he leaned back further into the pillows.

"All my food was this overwhelming taste of blood to it," he complained as Aragorn stood. "It is disgusting." He looked at the man, trying to gain his pity, but there was only a look of steel. Resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to eat, the prince began to ease himself upright. His weak arms trembled lightly and Aragorn swiftly caught his elbow. Legolas shook him off, throwing another glare his way.

"I'm fine, Aragorn," he said pointedly as he finished sitting up.

After having a tray of food sat on his lap, Legolas stared at if for a few minutes before digging his spoon half-heartedly into a bowel of broth. Aragorn watched him with raised eyebrows.

"Legolas," he finally said, "I'll make you a deal. I was going to wait until later to give this too you, but I'll bribe you now." He grinned lightly at the look Legolas shot him. "We received a letter from Thranduil—" The human raised his voice over most unprince like excited yelp, "but you can only have it if you eat to my approval." He grinned, unable to help himself as a smile appeared on Legolas' face that would have had an orc smiling.

"Why didn't you say anything earlier?! Where is it? Can I have it?" the prince held out his hands, pleading. His food was completely forgotten, and Aragorn made a noise, pointing at the plate.

"Did you not hear a word of what I just said?" he asked indigently. "Food first."

"Estel! Please…"

"Eat, you stubborn elf. And then, and only then, can you see it."

The elf flopped back into the pillows, staring with disbelief at the man. "You can be so cruel, you do know that, right?" he asked, this time actually scooping a spoonful of broth instead of merely picking a it.

"A man has got to do what a man's got to do when faced with a bullheaded elf," Aragorn said easily. Legolas ate in silence, but the small plate of food began to disappear and Aragorn watched with a victorious smirk, even as Legolas shot repeated glares in his direction. They weren't very threatening, especially considering the man had seen the elf's true glare. Now that was something to be frightened of, but this was almost a toothy grin in comparison.

The glares slowly began to change, becoming a grimace and then a wince. The slow movements became almost lethargic and the time between each bite was lengthy. Taking pity on the prince, whose eyelids were dropping lower, Aragorn tugged the plate away. His smirk widened as Legolas automatically jerked forward at the sudden movement.

"I'm just moving the plate before you get food all over everything," he explained as Legolas blinked himself out of a daze.

"Right," the elf said almost instantly, though it clearly took a few seconds for the message to process. Rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand, he winced.

"Go ahead and sleep, Legolas," Aragorn commanded softly, his eyes voicing his silent concern. While he wouldn't say that Legolas slept the day away, it wasn't uncommon for the prince take several cat naps throughout the day.

"Oh, no. Not until I see that letter," Legolas replied, looking more alert. He sat up straighter, his eyes losing the glazed quality of before. "You promised after all."

"Of course," the human soothed, giving his friend a slightly hurt look. Reaching into his pocket with a grin, he pulled out a crisp roll of parchment with Legolas' name printed on the front and the Mirkwood seal sealing it closed. Legolas took it eagerly, his fingers almost shaking from excitement. Ripping it open, the prince began to read, his eyes flicking back and forth with such speed that the human across from him found it slightly dizzying.

It was a lengthy letter, but as time ticked past Aragorn saw a change come over the elf. A burden appeared to be lifting from his shoulders, his back straightening almost unknowingly. A light entered his war-hardened eyes and they reverted back to their naturally happy state that wasn't seen enough. Aragorn didn't realize it, but just watching the elf relax was lifting a burden from his own soul.

"So," he asked as Legolas lowered the parchment, a happy smile on his face.

"They are getting better, Estel," he sighed, his breathing picking up in excitement. He reached out, clasping Aragorn's forearm. "The cure is working, more and more warriors are on their feet every day." Aragorn grinned from ear to ear. Legolas' happiness was contagious, it usually was, and his heart soared. "We truly did it! Those days of pain and suffering was all worth it." Legolas couldn't keep the laughter from his voice. Energy was flowing from him, and he shifted restlessly.

"I want to _do_ something!" he exclaimed after a moment of nervous energy, only to have Aragorn snort lightly.

"I would also have you _do_ something, but your health must be considered," he reminded gently. Legolas waved it away. He opened his mouth, but Aragorn cut him off. "No, no! You almost died, Ada was forced to infuse you with his own strength not once, but twice. We spent hours, _days_ , by your side nursing you back to health. You _will_ take your health seriously, even if I have to sit on you to make it happen."

Legolas frowned.

"I just want to walk around, not go kill orcs. It won't make a difference." He began to push himself into a fully sitting position. Wrapping an arm around his chest, he caught his breath and held it until the flare up died. When he opened his eyes, Aragorn was staring at him with disbelief, an eyebrow cocked.

"No, I do not believe you. It won't make a difference, my foot." Aragorn shook his head, snoring. "Only until you have a relapse, or until you can't breath again and start coughing blood. Or—"

"Estel," Legolas cut off loudly, stopping the tirade as he held up a hand. "Just to the couch or balcony. That will apparently have to suffice for now less, Valar forbid, I stub a toe which in turn might cause my spleen to rupture." Aragorn glared at the elf, crossing his arms.

"Point taken. Maybe I was being a little excessive."

"You think?"

"Oh, be quiet. Do you want to go to the couch or not?" He moved to stand next to the bed as Legolas just shook his head. Pulling the blankets back, he noticed the trembling of his hand, before looking pointedly away.

Allowing the human to take hold his arm, he scooted to the edge of the bed. On the count of three, Aragorn heaved Legolas onto unsteady feet. The elf wobbled, his face paling dramatically, but the human didn't let him fall. He quickly ducked under the elf's arm, taking most of his weight before shifting him a little to the left again him.

"I'm alright," Legolas said breathlessly, a hand coming to clutch at his chest despite his words. A soft, but deep and tearing cough shook his body and Aragorn arched an eyebrow, worry descending back into his grey eyes as he wrapped an arm around his waist.

"As long as you don't pass out on me, I'll just pretend those words are true," Aragorn said drily, taking a slow step forward. Legolas' leg trembled and buckled, but before Aragorn could fully catch him, he stumbled back upright.

"I'm alright, I'm fine," Legolas repeated, sucking in air as he forced his legs to carry his weight and continued to move forward. Aragorn kept moving, worry clear in the frequent glanced he sent toward the elf, but much to his relief they reached the couch without mishap.

Easing the elf down, he knelt in front of the panting elf. Legolas was clearly out of breath and Aragorn helped him relax back.

"Just breath slowly and steady, and you hopefully won't start coughing," he instructed, fixing the elf to lie flat his head pillowed on the arm of the ouch. He grabbed one of the several blankets that were scrunched at the end and tossed it over his friend. As Legolas had gotten better, he had begun to spend his days on the couch rather than the bed.

"You don't need to fuss," Legolas mumbled, fixing the pillow the way he liked it, before yawning. He shifted deeper into the couch, his energy from before draining rapidly. The happy grin was still on his face, however.

They talked for a while about everything and nothing, but during one of their longer stretched of silence, Legolas drifted off. Aragorn let him sleep, content to simply sit and watch the elf breath. His eyes were still mostly shut, but that was to be expected.

Moving to sit on the floor with his back against the couch, he simply rested in the calm. Legolas awoke not long after, but as quickly as he had awoken, he was asleep again.

A while later, the door opened and Elrond slipped in.

"How has he been?" he asked as he stopped behind the couch and gazed down at both of them.

"The letter cheered him greatly, and he almost made it here under his own power," Aragorn relayed softly. Elrond nodded slowly, moving around to sit on one of the nearby chairs.

"Glorfindel and the others were asking about him as well as Mirkwood. I think Glorfindel has finally dropped the idea of taking a group of elves to Greenwood." Elrond smiled, putting his fingertips together. The old warrior had wanted to set out immediately to help protect the forest and their kin, but Elrond had forbid not. There were dangers there that Mirkwood knew better than any how to face and besides by time they had got there, Mirkwood's practiced warriors would already be back up on its feet.

"I still think it wasn't a half bad plan," Aragorn said with a shrug. Mirkwood had been hit hard, and he didn't think that the image of the sick elves would leave him anytime soon. The thought that a handful of Imladris warriors would be there had been comforting, but he knew why his father had denied the request. Rivendell needed to be thought of as well, and Mirkwood's stubbornness and pride were infamous.

"What plan?" Legolas' slow, slightly slurred voice came from behind him, and Aragorn twisted, glancing over his shoulder. The elf shifted carefully, bringing an arm up to pillow his head on as he blinked owlishly at them.

"Glorfindel wanted to bring elves to Mirkwood," Aragorn explained, and to his surprise Legolas snorted.

"Bad idea. Ada wouldn't have it. Asking for healing help was hard enough, never mind warriors. You think I am prideful? Stubborn?" he trailed off, his meaning clear.

"How are you feeling?" Elrond's abrupt change of topics caught Legolas off guard for only a moment and he easily answer the question in his typical fashion.

"I am fine. I am at least not coughing up any more blood." Elrond and Aragorn frowned, making Legolas sight. "Trust me. I really am doing alright."

"Good," Elrond said lightly. He knew that he would be able to detect and counter any lie given. "Anything I can get you before I leave?"

Legolas smiled charmingly, "Permission to be free? Maybe a bit of fresh air?" He was only half joking, but Elrond shook his head firmly.

"We _can_ open a window, if that is satisfying enough."

Legolas nodded in agreement, the small frown back on his face. Aragorn heaved himself to his feet, heading towards the large, glass, balcony doors. But his father's soft voice stopped him mid-step.

"I think that if Legolas wants the window open, then he should do it himself."

Aragorn swirled around, his eyes wide with surprise. Legolas' head came flying up, his face glowing in surprise.

"Do-Do you mean?" Legolas asked breathlessly, his eyes lightening up almost as much as when he had read the letter. Aragorn was frowning, but his father looked at him and gestured for him to come back.

"Go ahead, Legolas," the healer stated, sweeping an arm out. Legolas slowly began to leverage himself upright, still throwing Elrond a suspicious look. The lord kept his eyes fastened on the prince, but leaned over towards Aragorn. "Don't let him fall, but I am interested to see how far he can get by himself." The man nodded once, and moved to stand beside his friend.

Legolas glanced over at him, but had bigger problems to worry about. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the arm of the couch in a white knuckled grip and stood. The world swirled around him and the floor tilted dangerously around him, just as it had every other time he had tried standing. Shaking his head, he waited for it to pass.

"Give yourself a moment," Aragorn instructed needlessly somewhere to his right. After his vision had cleared, the elf took a breath and took a step. Immediately he staggered into a nearby his chair, his legs protesting. He crashed painfully against the wood, but before he could hit the floor, clamped down on the arms of the chair. Staying upright with the force of his will alone, he heard a worried voice behind him, and quickly repeated that he was fine, there was no need to fuss.

Glancing back around, he found the man hovering a few feet back, clearly agitated. He, himself, was laying awkwardly against the chair. Pushing himself back up, slowly this time, Legolas wavered for a moment, trying to find his balance. He sense the man moving closer, just in case, and with confidence took a step forward and away from support. His betraying legs buckled, but before they could become a full traitors, he took a step, and then another, and another.

It was far from graceful, and more than once Legolas seriously thought he was going to end up on the floor but Aragorn was only forced to come the rescues once, and even then the elf was shrugging out of his grip almost instantly. Each step gained confidence and as he come to a stop next to the window, it was hard to believe that he had almost died just a few weeks ago.

As his fingers touched the glass, a grin began to grow across his face. From behind him, Aragorn laughed and then enveloped him in a bone crushing hug. The grin on his face became a full blown smile, and he laughed as well. Looking over the human's shoulder, he could see Elrond moving to stand beside them, a wide smile of his own on his face.

Legolas knew that he was still had a long ways to go before he was 100%. _But it is all just one step at a time_ , he reminded himself as he gripped the man back. It had been a while since he had been able to walk that far without keeling over and he knew that he had a handful of people to thank that he could.

The man hugged him back all the harder, relief flowing though the action, and Legolas knew without a doubt that it had been Aragorn who had pulled him through, who had kept his spirits up and would not let him die. Without Aragorn, the elf would have died along with a crippling number of his people for Elrond would not have gotten to them in time to come up with a cure. And that was not to mention everything else he had done...

The human would never believe this truth, but Legolas knew it.

The hands that were gripping him so tightly had not been crafted to deal out destruction and death, though they certainly could, but to heal. They were the hands of a king who would eventually heal his nation, his people, and all of mankind.

...and Legolas wasn't going to miss it for the world.

THE END

 **Well...that's it folks! Thanks once again for all your support and reviews (or just for reading it)!**

 **IF are interested, I do have another story (Now and For Always) planned that will be posted in the next couple of weeks... :)**

 **Review Replies:**

 **Lord Illyren:** Dude, I am sure he was... Thranduil is Thranduil after all. :) Yes, the cure was found and all was well! I do love happy endings...No, I offended and angry when character's don't get happy endings. Thanks so much!


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